Chapter 5 - THE CANE ON THE FLOOR
“Step away from the computer, Ethan.”
David’s hand wasn’t shaking anymore. The frail, exhausted uncle had vanished, replaced by a man with cold, desperate eyes.
Margaret instinctively stepped in front of Leo, shielding the young boy.
“You set the fire?” Ethan asked, his voice a hollow whisper. “You tried to burn your own father alive?”
“He was going to give the company away!” David snarled. “He was going to donate the patents to a charity trust because of his guilt over Clara! I built this company with him! I wasn’t going to let him throw it away for a teenage romance!”
Ethan stared at the gun.
The betrayal cut deeper than Sloane’s. This was family. This was the man who had bought him his first baseball glove.
“You didn’t borrow money from Richard ten years ago, did you?” Ethan realized. “Richard was blackmailing you about the fire.”
“Richard has the original police report,” David admitted, keeping the gun leveled. “He knew I bought the accelerant. Now, delete the files, Ethan. Or I will pull this trigger.”
“You won’t shoot me, Uncle David.”
“Don’t test me!”
Suddenly, Margaret spoke. Her voice was perfectly calm.
“David, before you make a mistake you can’t take back, look at the painting.”
David didn’t take his eyes off Ethan. “Shut up, Margaret.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “Look at the farmhouse. Specifically, the window on the second floor.”
David hesitated. For a split second, his eyes flicked down to the original canvas resting on the desk.
It was all Ethan needed.
He grabbed the heavy brass champagne bucket from the nearby table and hurled it.
The ice and metal slammed into David’s shoulder. The gun went off with a muffled thwip, the bullet shattering the computer monitor and sending sparks flying across the room.
David stumbled backward, slipping on the scattered ice.
Ethan lunged. He tackled his uncle to the marble floor, pinning his wrists and kicking the gun away.
David didn’t fight back. He just lay there, panting, looking up at the ceiling with empty eyes.
“It’s over, David,” Ethan breathed, his chest heaving.
Leo ran forward and grabbed the gun, holding it awkwardly but pointing it away from everyone.
Margaret walked over to the shattered computer monitor.
“The screen is dead,” she said. “But the hard drive is still intact.”
She pulled the SD card from the tower and handed it safely to Ethan.
“Call the police, Leo,” Ethan said, climbing off his uncle.
As sirens began to wail in the distance, Ethan walked over to the painting. He looked at the second-floor window of the farmhouse Margaret had mentioned.
“What’s in the window, Margaret?” Ethan asked softly.
Margaret came to stand beside him.
“When your grandfather sat with me during the restoration,” she said, “he told me to paint a small shadow in that window. He said it was a reminder that someone is always watching.”
The police arrived three minutes later.
They took David away in handcuffs. He didn’t say a word.
Ethan stood in the empty gallery, holding the painting in one hand and the SD card in the other.
The auction was ruined. His engagement was over. His family was shattered.
But he felt a strange sense of peace. The truth was finally in his hands.
“What will you do now?” Margaret asked, buttoning her coat.
“I’m going to tear the Mercer empire down to the studs,” Ethan said. “And I’m going to clear my grandfather’s name.”
“You’ll need a good lawyer,” she said kindly.
“I have the best,” Ethan replied.
He pulled out his phone and dialed his head of legal, a woman who had been his fiercest protector for five years.
“Sarah,” Ethan said when she answered. “I need you at the office. We are going to war with the Mercers.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“I’m sorry, Ethan,” Sarah’s voice replied, sounding distinctly unapologetic. “But I can’t do that.”
May you like
Ethan frowned. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said. “But I just received a very generous offer to become the new CEO of Mercer Industries. And my first act is filing a restraining order against you.”
