Chapter 13 - Uncle RobertRobert Brooks had been Nathan’s father’s younger brother.
Quiet.
Reliable.
The uncle who taught Nathan to drive.
The man who gave the toast at Nathan and Claire’s wedding.
His affidavit said William intended the child-beneficiary clause only for “an undisputed biological heir raised within an intact Brooks household.”
Rachel read it twice.
“That language is not in the trust.”
Nathan called Robert.
He answered immediately.
“You should drop this.”
Nathan stared at the phone.
“Drop what?”
“The fight.”
“My mother forged a DNA test.”
“She made mistakes.”
“She attacked Claire.”
Silence.
Then Robert said:
“You don’t understand what losing control of the company will do.”
There it was.
Not family.
Control.
Robert owned five percent of Brooks Holdings.
If Sophie’s shares remained active and Nathan voted independently, Margaret’s old faction could no longer command the board.
Robert’s influence would shrink too.
Nathan asked:
“Did Dad know you were part of this?”
Robert’s voice hardened.
“Your father became suspicious of everyone at the end.”
Same script.
Again.
Rachel subpoenaed Robert’s communications.
He tried to withdraw the affidavit.
Too late.
Emails showed Margaret had promised him a board chairmanship if Sophie’s trust interest was removed.
Claire shook her head.
“They all keep talking about a baby like she’s a voting block.”
Nathan looked at Sophie sleeping in the bassinet.
“That ends.”
He called an emergency board meeting.
For the first time, Nathan publicly disclosed the internal fraud investigation.
Grant was suspended.
Margaret’s voting rights on disputed shares were frozen.
Robert was removed from two committees pending review.
Employees stared.
Some angry.
Some relieved.
Then the company’s longtime controller, James Porter, stood.
“I need to say something.”
Nathan nodded.
James looked terrified.
“Your father kept a second ledger.”
“Where?”
James swallowed.
“He gave it to me.”
Nathan stood.
“Why didn’t you come forward?”
“Because he told me to wait until the family broke ranks.”
Nathan stared at him.
James opened his briefcase.
Inside was a black leather ledger.
On the first page William had written:
May you like
THEFT IS NOT THE WORST PART.
THE WORST PART IS WHO THEY ARE WILLING TO SACRIFICE TO HIDE IT.
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