Chapter 6 - MIDNIGHT CROWN
Dad read the paper twice.
Then he asked everyone except me to leave the room.
That frightened me more than his expression.
“You know what it means.”
He stood at the foot of my hospital bed.
“Yes.”
“What is Midnight Crown?”
“A financial dead-man protocol.”
“Yours?”
“No.”
He walked toward the window.
“It belonged to the original Black Meridian investigation.”
Twenty-two years earlier, Vale Dominion had infiltrated the smuggling network operating through Port Langston.
The investigators discovered something unexpected.
Black Meridian was not simply a criminal organization.
It was a financial marketplace.
Corrupt executives could secretly move money, cargo, influence, or confidential information through an encrypted chain of shell companies.
When investigators got close, Black Meridian activated Midnight Crown.
Thousands of accounts moved simultaneously.
Records disappeared.
Companies dissolved.
People vanished.
“My team stopped most of it,” Dad said.
“Most?”
“One account survived.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred million dollars.”
I stared at him.
“In whose name?”
“We never found out.”
Dad turned toward me.
“Until now.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dad’s security officer immediately stepped toward it.
I answered before he could stop me.
Nathan’s voice came through.
“Enjoying your victory?”
My body went rigid.
“You’re calling from custody?”
“My attorneys are very talented.”
He had been released pending further proceedings.
Of course he had.
Men like Nathan rarely remained powerless for long on the first day.
“You should have left when I gave you the chance,” he said.
“You never gave me a chance.”
“I gave you everything.”
“You gave me bruises and lies.”
Silence.
Then his tone changed.
“You don’t understand what your father has done.”
“What have we done?”
“You woke something up.”
Dad reached for the phone.
I lifted a hand.
“What is Midnight Crown, Nathan?”
His breathing stopped.
That was enough.
“You know.”
He recovered quickly.
“Celeste talked.”
“She did.”
“She’ll regret that.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
Nathan sounded almost amused.
“It’s a prediction.”
The call ended.
Dad immediately ordered the number traced.
It led nowhere.
Three minutes later, every financial monitor in the room began chiming.
One of Dad’s analysts rushed inside.
“Sir.”
“What happened?”
“International transfer activity.”
“How much?”
“Initial estimate is nine hundred million dollars.”
My father’s face went pale.
“From where?”
The analyst swallowed.
“Ashford-linked shell companies.”
“To what destination?”
“We’re still mapping it.”
Dad moved toward the laptop.
Account after account flashed across the screen.
Singapore.
Geneva.
Dubai.
Cayman Islands.
Panama.
Then one final destination appeared.
VALE DOMINION RESERVE TRUST.
I stared at my father.
Someone had just transferred stolen money into an account bearing his company’s name.
Dad understood immediately.
“They’re framing us.”
The analyst nodded.
“If regulators see this before we isolate the transfer trail, Vale Dominion becomes part of the laundering investigation.”
Nathan had not called to threaten me.
May you like
He had called to keep me occupied.
And while we were listening, someone had just made my father look like the criminal.
