Chapter 16 - MY UNCLE’S SECRET
My uncle Robert Mercer had died eight months earlier.
A heart attack.
Sudden but apparently natural.
He had left me his voting shares in Dalton Maritime Logistics.
Gregory claimed there was another agreement.
According to him, Robert had secretly negotiated with Hartman Capital before his death.
Martin denied it immediately.
Too quickly.
Ortiz noticed.
So did I.
Gregory laughed.
“You don’t even know what Dad was buying.”
Martin shouted.
“Stop talking.”
Gregory looked delighted.
For once, hurting his father mattered more than protecting himself.
“He wasn’t buying Dalton.”
“What was he buying?” I asked.
“Access.”
Dalton Maritime handled secure logistics for government contractors.
Not classified operations.
But valuable routes.
Warehousing.
Ports.
Subcontractors.
Timing.
Hartman Capital wanted the company because its network could make other acquisitions more profitable.
My uncle refused.
Then Gregory met me at a charity event three weeks later.
That had never been coincidence.
“Robert knew,” Gregory said.
“He knew who I was.”
I felt sick.
“Then why didn’t he warn me?”
Gregory smiled.
“He tried.”
I remembered my uncle’s last voicemail.
Call me before you sign anything with Gregory.
I had assumed he meant the prenup.
By the time I returned the call, Robert was in the hospital.
He died before we spoke.
Martin interrupted.
“This is nonsense.”
Gregory laughed.
“Tell her about the safe.”
Martin’s face went blank.
“What safe?”
“The one in Robert’s office.”
I stepped closer.
Gregory continued.
“Your uncle kept copies of everything.”
“Dad spent months trying to get them.”
“Simon Pike finally found the inventory after Robert died.”
My pulse raced.
“What was in it?”
“A recorded meeting.”
Martin lunged toward Gregory.
Security stopped him.
That answered more than words could.
Gregory smiled at his father.
“Still think I should shut up?”
Ortiz contacted authorities in Florida.
The investigation was no longer limited to attempted assault and fraud.
If Gregory was telling the truth, evidence on land might connect Martin to corporate crimes.
Maybe more.
Then Gregory said something that made every person on the deck turn.
“Robert didn’t have a heart attack.”
Martin’s face went white.
I stopped breathing.
“What did you say?”
Gregory looked at me.
“Ask Dr. Bell.”
The family physician.
The man who had declared Elaine unstable.
The man photographed with Martin two weeks before my wedding.
“He was with your uncle the night he died.”
Martin began shouting.
May you like
Gregory kept talking.
“And Dad paid him two hundred thousand dollars three days later.”
