I stared at my phone.

Marcus sounded calm.

Almost amused.

As though he hadn't just threatened my children.

“Listen carefully,” I said. “Stay away from my family.”

He laughed softly.

“You always did think you could give orders, big brother.”

“I'm not joking.”

“Neither am I.”

Detective Brooks signaled for me to keep him talking.

I swallowed my anger.

“What do you want?”

“The laptop.”

“Why?”

“It contains private company information.”

“Then explain why you've been threatening my daughters.”

Marcus went silent.

When he spoke again, his voice had changed.

“Your daughter misunderstood a family conversation.”

“You sent her a photograph of Nia outside school.”

“I don't know anything about that.”

“Don't lie to me.”

He sighed.

“Arthur, you're making a mistake.”

“No. My mistake was trusting you.”

His tone sharpened.

“You should have listened when I warned you about Jordan.”

I looked at my son.

Jordan stood completely still.

“What does Jordan have to do with this?”

Marcus chuckled.

“Ask him about the summer he worked in the company office.”

Jordan frowned.

“Dad?”

Marcus heard him.

“Oh, the golden boy is listening.”

“What are you talking about?” Jordan demanded.

Marcus lowered his voice.

“You were always too curious.”

Jordan stepped closer.

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Then you don't understand what you're protecting.”

The call ended.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Detective Brooks immediately contacted another officer.

She wanted the phone records preserved and Marcus located.

Then she turned toward Jordan.

“Tell me about that summer.”

Jordan rubbed his forehead.

“I worked at Dad's office two years ago.”

“What did you do?”

“Filed invoices. Organized boxes. Helped scan old documents.”

“Did you ever find anything unusual?”

He hesitated.

“I remember an argument.”

My stomach tightened.

“An argument between whom?”

“Uncle Marcus and Grandpa.”

I stared at him.

“Grandpa had already been sick for months.”

Jordan nodded.

“He came to the office one afternoon. Uncle Marcus thought nobody was there.”

“What did you hear?”

Jordan swallowed.

“Grandpa said something about fake companies.”

I felt the air leave my lungs.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I was sixteen. They stopped talking when they saw me.”

He looked ashamed.

“Grandpa told me it was adult business.”

Claire placed a hand over her mouth.

Jordan continued.

“A few days later, Grandpa gave me the laptop.”

Detective Brooks nodded thoughtfully.

“Did you ever tell Marcus where you kept it?”

“No.”

“Did he ever ask about it?”

Jordan looked up.

“Actually, yes.”

“When?”

“Last Christmas.”

My heart sank.

Marcus had attended a family gathering at our aunt's house.

Jordan said Marcus had approached him privately.

“He asked if I still had Grandpa's computer. I told him yes.”

“And then?”

“He offered me two thousand dollars for it.”

Claire stared at him.

“Two thousand dollars?”

Jordan nodded.

“I thought he was joking.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I told him I wanted to keep it because Grandpa gave it to me.”

He paused.

“Uncle Marcus got really angry.”

The room fell silent.

Marcus hadn't wanted Jordan removed because of anything Jordan had done to Maya.

He wanted him removed because Jordan possessed something valuable.

But why now?

The laptop had been sitting untouched for years.

Detective Brooks appeared to be considering the same question.

“Mr. Bennett, has anything changed recently with the company?”

I thought for a moment.

Then I remembered.

“The property sale.”

Claire looked at me.

“What property?”

“Our old industrial site.”

Bennett Family Development still owned a large construction yard outside Atlanta.

I had been negotiating to sell it to a commercial developer.

The sale was scheduled to close the following Thursday.

Nearly three million dollars.

Detective Brooks leaned forward.

“Who would receive the proceeds?”

“The company.”

“And does Marcus still own shares?”

“Technically, yes. His management authority was removed, but his ownership dispute was never fully settled.”

I stopped speaking.

For years, I had avoided discussing that unresolved problem.

Now it was staring back at me.

Marcus might receive a substantial portion of the sale proceeds.

Unless somebody discovered evidence that changed his legal position.

The detective nodded.

“I recommend you contact your attorney immediately.”

I already knew whom to call.

Rachel Monroe.

She had represented our company for almost ten years.

But before I could reach for my phone, Jordan spoke.

“Dad, there's something else.”

I turned.

He looked deeply uncomfortable.

“What?”

“Uncle Marcus contacted me last week.”

My stomach dropped.

“What did he say?”

“He offered me money.”

“For the laptop?”

Jordan shook his head.

“For something else.”

Claire stared at him.

“What something?”

Jordan took out his phone and opened an email.

He handed it to me.

I read the message.

Then read it again.

Marcus had offered Jordan seventy-five thousand dollars to sign a document confirming that Arthur Bennett had secretly authorized the disputed company transfers.

My hands began shaking.

“You didn't sign this?”

“Of course not!”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I knew how much the business meant to you.”

Jordan looked at the floor.

“I didn't want another family war.”

I felt ashamed.

My son had been trying to protect my peace.

And I had nearly thrown him out of his own home.

Detective Brooks asked Jordan to preserve the email.

Then Rachel returned my call.

I explained everything.

There was a long silence.

Finally, she said, “Arthur, stop the property sale.”

“Why?”

“Because I received something yesterday that I haven't told you about yet.”

My chest tightened.

“What did you receive?”

“A copy of a transfer agreement.”

“From whom?”

“Marcus.”

I gripped the phone.

Rachel continued.

“Arthur, according to this document, you signed away control of the industrial property eight months ago.”

I stood frozen.

“That is impossible.”

“I believe you.”

“Then whose signature is on it?”

Rachel's voice dropped.

“Yours.”