Chapter 40 - The Hostile Offer
Sebastian Vale made his move forty-eight hours after our meeting in Seattle.
He didn't arrive at Hale Development with a threatening photograph.
He arrived with an offer.
An offer worth eleven billion dollars.
The announcement appeared across financial news networks before most of our executives had finished their morning coffee.
VALE CAPITAL PROPOSES ACQUISITION OF HALE DEVELOPMENT GROUP.
I watched the headline flash across the television in Grayson's office.
Then came the second headline.
HISTORIC HALE FAMILY OWNERSHIP DISPUTE COULD COMPLICATE TRANSACTION.
Evelyn stood beside the conference table.
"He's using the inheritance uncertainty to create pressure on shareholders."
Grayson folded his arms.
"How much support does he have?"
"Unknown. The offer was unsolicited. The board will need to assess it according to its legal obligations."
I studied Sebastian's photograph on the television.
He was a silver-haired man with a polished smile and an expensive charcoal suit.
He looked like the sort of executive who appeared on magazine covers beneath words like visionary and disruptor.
I had learned that expensive tailoring was not evidence of integrity.
"Why now?" I asked.
Samuel Brooks opened his laptop.
"Vale Capital has been accumulating interests in businesses connected to the disputed historical transactions."
"How much?" Grayson asked.
"We're still establishing the full picture."
Grayson rubbed his jaw.
"Sebastian has been trying to buy Hale Development for years."
"Then this may be his best opportunity," Evelyn replied.
A sudden uncertainty surrounding the founder's private financial affairs could frighten investors.
And frightened investors were often tempted by the apparent certainty of a large cash offer.
By noon, several directors had requested an emergency board meeting.
The company's stock price fluctuated sharply.
Reporters gathered outside headquarters.
And Malcolm Pierce reappeared on television, announcing that Andrew Whitmore's estate possessed potentially significant claims.
Natalie called me in tears.
"I never authorized him to speak publicly about Oliver."
"Have you contacted your lawyer?"
"Yes. She's filing the necessary objections."
I closed my eyes.
"Good."
Natalie hesitated.
"Claire, somebody sent Oliver a toy."
My stomach tightened.
"What kind of toy?"
"A wooden airplane."
"Was there a note?"
She began crying.
"It said his grandfather had promised him the sky."
I gripped the phone.
"Have you reported it?"
"Yes."
I glanced toward Grace's photograph on my desk.
The idea of someone dragging a small child into a corporate dispute made me furious.
"Oliver shouldn't have to carry this," I whispered.
"I know."
After the call, I found Grayson studying a photograph of Richard Hale.
"Sebastian thinks he'll win," he said.
"Maybe."
Grayson turned.
"That's comforting."
I smiled faintly.
"I'm not going to tell you we're guaranteed to win simply because we're the good people in this story."
He laughed once.
Then I stepped closer.
"But I know what he hasn't considered."
"What?"
"That you're no longer trying to defend your father's secrets."
Grayson became still.
"You're willing to expose the truth, even if it costs you something."
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Then he can't control you with the fear of what people might discover."
For a moment, his expression softened.
Then Evelyn entered.
"There's another development."
I turned.
She placed a document on the table.
It was a notice from a firm representing Victor Sloane.
"He wants to meet with independent counsel," she explained.
"Why?"
"He's prepared to provide testimony about the original family trust."
Grayson leaned forward.
"Does he have the complete records?"
"He claims he does."
I exhaled.
"Then what's stopping him?"
Evelyn looked directly at us.
"He's afraid Sebastian will retaliate."
Grayson stood.
"We'll make sure investigators know."
Evelyn nodded.
"Already arranged."
That evening, while Grace slept, I walked into our bedroom and found Grayson packing a small bag.
"Where are you going?"
"New York."
"Why?"
"Victor has agreed to meet."
I frowned.
"When?"
"Tomorrow morning."
I stepped closer.
"You're not going alone."
Grayson smiled tiredly.
"Claire—"
"No."
He stopped.
I took his hand.
"We promised each other we wouldn't fight our battles in separate rooms."
His smile deepened.
"Together?"
"Always."
We left the following morning.
But when we arrived at the meeting location, Victor Sloane wasn't there.
Instead, Evelyn received a call from his attorney.
Victor had been rushed to the hospital overnight.
Someone had entered his home.
His office had been ransacked.
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And the only folder reported missing was labeled:
HALE FAMILY TRUST — ORIGINAL EXECUTION COPIES.
