Chapter 13 - The Son of the Enemy
The name appeared fourteen times on Sabrina’s USB drive.
Ethan Hale.
Noah Grant spent nearly twelve hours reconstructing corrupted files before he found the first photograph.
Emma stood behind him in Stonegate’s private security office while the image loaded across the screen.
The man was approximately thirty-eight.
Tall.
Dark blond hair.
Gray eyes.
Expensive suit.
The type of face that belonged on a corporate magazine cover.
Beneath the photograph was a résumé.
Ethan Victor Hale.
University of Pennsylvania.
Harvard Business School.
Private equity.
Commercial restructuring.
Most recently, managing director of Northstar Capital Partners.
Emma read the name twice.
“I know Northstar.”
Marcus nodded.
“They attempted to purchase three Stonegate industrial properties last year.”
“I rejected the offer.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know who he was?”
“No. Hale uses his mother’s surname professionally on most filings. Ethan Mercer.”
Emma stared at the photograph.
“He approached us under another name?”
“Not illegal,” Marcus said. “But certainly intentional.”
Noah opened another file.
This one was a scanned letter from Arthur Whitmore to Marcus dated seventeen years earlier.
Emma recognized her father’s handwriting immediately.
Marcus read silently.
His face tightened.
“What?” Emma asked.
He hesitated.
“Marcus.”
He turned the monitor toward her.
Arthur’s letter was brief.
Marcus,
If Victor ever resurfaces, do not negotiate. He believes I stole the company from him. The opposite is true, but bitterness does not require facts. His son Ethan is only twenty-one, and I hope the boy escapes his father’s obsession. Still, protect Emma from both of them if necessary. Stonegate belongs to her future, not my past.
—Arthur.
Emma’s throat tightened.
“He knew.”
“He worried,” Marcus corrected gently.
Noah’s phone rang.
He answered, listened, then looked toward Emma.
“Mrs. Whitmore, your security team just stopped a vehicle near the service entrance.”
“What vehicle?”
“Black SUV. False plates.”
Emma felt her heartbeat accelerate.
“Who was driving?”
“The driver fled on foot.”
Marcus stood.
“Lock down the estate.”
Noah was already moving.
Emma returned home under escort.
By the time she arrived, armed security officers were positioned around the property.
Clara was safe upstairs with Mrs. Alvarez.
Emma did not breathe normally until she had her daughter in her arms.
Clara blinked sleepily up at her, completely unaware.
“I’ve got you,” Emma whispered.
Noah entered the nursery fifteen minutes later.
“We found something inside the SUV.”
Emma’s grip tightened around Clara.
“What?”
“A folder.”
Marcus appeared behind him.
Emma looked between them.
“Stop protecting me from information. Tell me.”
Noah handed her a clear evidence sleeve.
Inside was a photocopy of Clara’s birth certificate.
Emma felt sick.
Only a small number of people had access to that document.
At the bottom, someone had written:
STONEGATE HAS AN HEIR.
Emma sat down slowly.
“This isn’t about Daniel.”
“No,” Marcus said.
“It’s about Clara.”
“We don’t know that.”
Emma looked up sharply.
“Yes, we do.”
Noah’s phone vibrated again.
He checked the message.
“Security recovered partial footage from a traffic camera.”
He displayed the image.
It showed the fleeing driver entering another vehicle two blocks away.
The second vehicle was registered to Northstar Capital.
Emma stared at the screen.
“Ethan Hale.”
Marcus nodded grimly.
Twenty minutes later, Emma made a decision neither man liked.
“I want a meeting.”
“No,” Marcus said immediately.
“No.”
“Absolutely not,” Noah added.
Emma stood, still holding Clara.
“He’s been circling Stonegate for years. He’s sending photographs. He has my daughter’s birth certificate. I am finished waiting for him to decide what happens next.”
“You do not meet a potential stalker,” Marcus replied.
“I meet a businessman.”
“You don’t know which one he is.”
“Then I’ll find out.”
Noah folded his arms.
“If we arrange anything, it happens in a controlled location with security.”
“Fine.”
Marcus looked frustrated.
“Emma, Arthur specifically warned me—”
“My father warned you to protect me.”
She met his gaze.
“He also taught me never to negotiate from fear.”
Marcus went silent.
Emma looked back at Ethan Hale’s photograph.
“Call Northstar.”
The meeting was scheduled for the next afternoon.
But at 11:42 that night, Emma’s phone received a text from an unknown number.
You’re asking the wrong Hale.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
My brother is the one you should fear.
