Chapter 7 - The Final Audit
The sun had completely set by the time Nathaniel walked back down the north ridge path toward the main house.
He didn't run. He didn't rush. He walked with the slow, measured pace of a man who had finally reached the final page of a ledger that had been balanced in red ink for three agonizing years.
When he entered the library, Marcus Vance was sitting in the leather chair behind the desk, his hands cuffed behind his back, flanked by two federal marshals and local state troopers.
Marcus looked up as Nathaniel walked in. There was no fear in his eyes—only a tired, bitter resignation.
“You’re late,” Marcus said.
Nathaniel walked past him without a word, pulled out his own chair, and sat down. He picked up the cold cup of coffee from earlier that morning, stared at the dark surface for a long moment, and then set it back down.
“The marshals found the secondary communications relay in the north ridge lodge,” Nathaniel said, his voice entirely flat. “They’re clearing out her things right now.”
Marcus didn't flinch. “She’s not going to prison, Nathaniel. You know that. She hasn't committed a single statutory crime that a high-priced defense attorney won’t turn into a sympathetic mental health narrative about a grieving mother.”
“I know,” Nathaniel said.
He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out the brass winding key, and placed it gently on top of the security log.
“What are you going to do with the estate?” Marcus asked, watching his hands.
“I’m signing over the deed to the trust,” Nathaniel said quietly. “Marisol and her daughter are getting the main house and the staff quarters. The foundation will manage the trust in perpetuity.”
Marcus frowned, his brow furrowing. “And you?”
Nathaniel stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. He looked around the vast, dark library—at the thousands of unread books, the cold marble fireplace, the heavy mahogany shelves that had served as his prison for three decades.
“I’m going for a drive, Marcus,” Nathaniel said, turning toward the double doors.
“Where?”
May you like
Nathaniel didn't look back.
“Somewhere without a security log.”
