Chapter 23 - The Daughter He Couldn’t Buy
Maya received the offer on a Tuesday morning.
The email came from a prestigious international consulting firm in Boston.
Paid summer fellowship.
Executive mentorship.
Housing included.
$25,000 stipend.
She had never applied.
That alone made her suspicious.
She forwarded it to Rachel.
Rachel forwarded it to Sarah.
Sarah forwarded it to Agent Sloan.
Within an hour, they knew the firm was legitimate.
The offer was not.
Someone had created a near-perfect duplicate of the firm’s recruitment system.
At the bottom of the acceptance documents was a confidentiality clause.
And a travel authorization.
Maya read it twice.
“They wanted me to give them my passport information.”
Sloan nodded.
“And your banking information.”
“Why?”
“Identity theft. Financial leverage. Possibly to create documents in your name.”
Rachel’s face hardened.
Grant had failed to frighten Maya.
So now he was trying to use her.
Maya pushed the laptop away.
“I’m done.”
Rachel looked at her.
“Done with what?”
“Being protected like I’m twelve.”
“Maya—”
“No.”
She stood.
“Grant keeps targeting me because he thinks I’m your weak spot.”
“You are my weak spot.”
“I know.”
Maya softened.
“But I’m also Grandpa William’s great-granddaughter.”
Rachel almost smiled.
Maya continued.
“I want to help.”
“You are helping by staying safe.”
“That’s not enough.”
Agent Sloan spoke.
“Actually, there may be something she can do.”
Rachel immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“You haven’t heard it.”
“I don’t need to.”
Maya looked at Sloan.
“What?”
Sloan explained.
Investigators believed Grant’s people were trying to determine whether Maya possessed future control over the Vance Trust.
If Maya appeared willing to sell her potential interest, Grant might expose additional intermediaries.
Rachel stared at Sloan.
“You want to use my daughter as bait.”
“No physical meeting.”
“Still no.”
“Mom.”
“No.”
Maya crossed her arms.
“You trusted me to choose sides during the divorce.”
“That was different.”
“You trusted me when I supported the clinic.”
“Different.”
“You tell women at your clinic they deserve control over their own lives.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
That was unfair.
Mostly because it was accurate.
The operation was carefully designed.
Maya responded to the fraudulent fellowship through a secure FBI-controlled account.
She wrote that she knew the offer was fake.
Then she added:
If this is about the Vance property, make a real offer.
The response came forty-seven minutes later.
Smart girl.
Rachel hated those two words.
Maya typed:
How much?
Ten million for your future trust interest.
Maya laughed.
“My future interest isn’t even transferable without Mom’s approval.”
Sloan nodded.
“That means they either don’t know the trust structure or they don’t care.”
Maya replied:
Twenty.
The anonymous sender responded:
Fifteen. Final.
Maya looked at Rachel.
Rachel reluctantly nodded.
Maya typed:
Who guarantees payment?
The answer arrived.
GW.
Sloan smiled.
“Keep going.”
Maya wrote:
Not enough. I want proof you can control the Joliet title case.
Several minutes passed.
Then a file appeared.
A PDF.
Sloan opened it in a secure environment.
Inside was a copy of an unreleased draft legal opinion bearing the name of a junior associate at Grant’s law firm.
Attached was a message.
Court will be handled.
Sarah stared.
“They just handed us potential evidence of litigation misconduct.”
Sloan’s team traced the transmission.
The server bounced through three countries.
But the payment account used to maintain it connected to a domestic corporate card.
Northstar Agricultural Holdings.
Again.
Then a second message arrived.
Tell your mother to stop fighting. Everyone has something to lose.
Rachel’s anger flashed.
Maya placed a hand on her arm.
“I’m okay.”
Rachel looked at her daughter.
Nineteen.
Smart.
Brave.
Far stronger than Rachel had been at nineteen.
Maybe stronger than Rachel had allowed herself to notice.
Maya typed one final response.
You don’t know my mother.
Then she closed the laptop.
That evening, Rachel and Maya sat on the back porch.
“You scared me today,” Rachel admitted.
Maya leaned against her.
“You scare me all the time.”
Rachel laughed.
“Fair.”
Maya became quiet.
“Do you think Dad knows Grant is doing this?”
“No.”
“Would he stop him if he could?”
Rachel thought about Victor’s testimony.
The old Victor would have protected himself.
The man she saw in court had done something different.
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“I think he would.”
Maya nodded.
“I miss who Dad used to be.”
Rachel took her hand.
“So do I.”
“Does that mean you forgive him?”
“No.”
Maya looked surprised.
Rachel continued.
“Forgiveness isn’t pretending something didn’t happen. And it doesn’t mean giving someone the same place in your life.”
She squeezed Maya’s fingers.
“It just means their mistakes no longer control your peace.”
Inside, Rachel’s phone rang.
Sarah.
“We got another break.”
“What?”
“Grant’s junior attorney wants to cooperate.”
“Why?”
“He saw the messages sent to Maya.”
Rachel stood.
“And?”
“He says Grant ordered evidence destroyed after the warehouse fire.”
Rachel looked toward Maya.
Sarah continued.
May you like
“He has copies.”
For the first time, Grant’s own inner circle was beginning to crack.
