Chapter 15 - Matthew Hears Everything
They planned to tell Matthew carefully.
Life had other ideas.
The following afternoon, Hannah walked into the library and found him sitting behind Victor’s desk.
A printed article lay open.
SECRET DAVIS TRUST MAY BE WORTH $800 MILLION.
Hannah closed her eyes.
“Who gave you that?”
“No one.”
“Matthew.”
“I searched Dad’s name.”
He was nine now.
Old enough to navigate the internet.
Young enough to believe adults could prevent bad things simply by trying harder.
“Is it true?”
Hannah sat across from him.
“Part of it.”
“I have eight hundred million dollars?”
“Not exactly.”
“Dad said I have a college account.”
“This is different.”
Matthew’s eyes filled.
“Why does everybody keep hiding things from me?”
There it was.
Not greed.
Fear.
Hannah leaned forward.
“Your grandfather created a trust.”
“Grandpa Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“The mean one.”
Victor entered.
He had heard that.
“Accurate.”
Matthew turned.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I learned yesterday.”
“Are people going to shoot at us?”
Victor froze.
Hannah saw pain flash across his face.
“No.”
“You said that last time.”
Matthew stood.
“And then they shot our windows!”
Victor approached slowly.
“You’re right.”
Matthew looked surprised.
“I should not promise danger doesn’t exist.”
“Then what can you promise?”
“That I will never send you away and pretend nothing is happening.”
Matthew’s face softened.
Victor crouched.
“You have money in a trust you did not ask for.”
“Do I have to take it?”
“No.”
“Can I give it away?”
Victor almost smiled.
“When you’re older, probably.”
“Can I buy the Yankees?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because even eight hundred million may not be enough.”
Matthew looked offended.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Hannah laughed despite herself.
Victor sat beside him.
“The trust comes with people who believe money gives them power over you.”
Matthew frowned.
“Like Anthony?”
“Yes.”
“And Uncle Raymond?”
Victor’s eyes sharpened.
“How do you know that name?”
Matthew pointed at the article.
“Internet.”
Victor muttered something unprintable.
“Dad.”
“Sorry.”
Matthew studied him.
“Was Grandpa Dominic bad?”
Victor took a long breath.
“He did many bad things.”
“Did you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Victor struggled.
Hannah remained silent.
This answer belonged to him.
“Because children often love their parents before they understand who they are.”
Matthew looked down.
“Did he love you?”
Victor’s face changed.
“I think he loved what he wanted me to become.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
Matthew leaned against him.
Victor wrapped one arm around his son.
Then Matthew asked the hardest question.
“Do you love me because of what you want me to become?”
Victor’s eyes filled immediately.
“No.”
“How do I know?”
Victor looked shattered.
Hannah remembered the old dining table.
The silent meals.
The watercolor boat.
The father who once criticized the width of a painted hull.
Victor touched Matthew’s cheek.
“Because if you grow up and become a teacher, a doctor, a musician, a fisherman, or a man who sells hot dogs in Central Park, I will still be proud of you.”
Matthew laughed.
“A hot-dog man?”
“A very successful hot-dog man.”
“What if I don’t want the company?”
“It will survive.”
“What if I don’t want Grandpa’s money?”
“Then it will not own you.”
Matthew hugged him.
Hannah looked away, giving them privacy.
The next morning, Victor’s attorneys filed emergency proceedings to identify and freeze Dominic’s hidden trust.
The trustee resisted.
Raymond vanished.
Eleanor joined Victor’s legal team as an adverse claimant with aligned interests.
That caused headlines.
Former Enemies Unite Against Davis Crime Dynasty.
Then came the first strike.
Davis Maritime lost three major contracts in one day.
A lender called a $90 million credit facility.
A city redevelopment agreement was suspended.
Arthur Blake, Victor’s CFO, walked into the penthouse carrying financial projections.
“Someone is triggering old pressure points.”
“Raymond,” Marcus said.
Arthur nodded.
“If this continues, we can survive six months.”
Victor remained calm.
“What if we liquidate the legacy shipping assets?”
“Three months.”
Hannah frowned.
“Why less?”
“Because forced sales create panic.”
Victor looked at the Manhattan skyline.
The old version of him would have retaliated.
Threatened.
Bought officials.
Destroyed competitors.
Instead he said:
“Let them panic.”
Arthur stared.
“What?”
“Sell every asset connected to my father.”
“Victor—”
“Everything.”
“That could cost billions.”
Victor looked toward the room where Matthew was doing homework.
“So?”
Hannah smiled.
For the first time, Victor Davis was proving he did not merely want a clean empire.
He was willing to become less powerful to keep it clean.
May you like
Raymond had misunderstood him.
That would become his fatal mistake.
