Chapter 5 - My Father’s Name in Nathan’s Ledger
I carried the notebook into my father’s office that evening.
Vale Dominion occupied the top twelve floors of an unmarked Manhattan tower.
There was no company logo in the lobby.
No trophy wall.
No public directory.
Powerful organizations rarely needed to advertise themselves.
Dad examined Nathan’s notebook under a forensic light.
“You recognize the codes.”
“Yes.”
“I taught them to you too young.”
“You taught me because you thought puzzles were fun.”
“They were.”
He turned another page.
“Until someone began using them to destroy people.”
I pointed to his name.
“Explain.”
The number beside ELIAS was 7-4-1.
Dad stared at it.
“Level seven means priority target.”
My pulse quickened.
“Four?”
“Financial containment.”
“And one?”
He closed the notebook.
I waited.
“Dad.”
“Termination.”
The room felt suddenly airless.
“Someone wanted you dead.”
“Someone often does.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
He opened the notebook again.
Most names had codes between one and five.
Only three had level-seven classifications.
Elias Vale.
Claire Vale Ashford.
And Maya Torres.
The federal agent investigating Nathan.
I immediately called her.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Dad reached for his secure phone.
Before he could make the call, an alarm sounded.
Not in the building.
On his device.
He looked at the screen.
“Torres’s emergency beacon.”
“Where?”
He turned the display toward me.
Queens.
A parking structure near the federal field office.
We reached the location twenty-seven minutes later with Dad’s security team and federal backup.
Agent Torres’s car was abandoned on the fourth floor.
The driver’s door was open.
Her phone lay shattered beside a concrete pillar.
There was no blood.
No body.
Only a message painted across the windshield.
STOP DIGGING.
A young federal agent approached us.
“We found this under the vehicle.”
He handed Dad a plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a small silver coin.
One side carried the image of a compass.
The other showed a broken crown.
My father went completely still.
“You know it?”
I asked.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
He looked toward the empty ramps.
“The Meridian Circle.”
I had never heard the name.
Dad lowered his voice.
“Victor Sloane’s network.”
“I thought he died.”
“He did.”
“Then who is running it?”
Dad looked at me.
“That is what Cassandra has spent eighteen years preparing us not to discover.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
At first, I heard only static.
Then breathing.
“Maya?”
A woman whispered.
“Don’t trust the board.”
The connection crackled.
“Where are you?”
“The ledger is bait.”
Then another voice sounded in the background.
A man.
Calm.
Close.
Torres gasped.
The call disconnected.
Dad immediately ordered technicians to trace it.
But I was staring at Nathan’s notebook.
Don’t trust the board.
There had been eleven directors in that room.
One of them had helped me take control.
May you like
One of them had wanted access opened.
And at least one of them might have been waiting for exactly that.
