Chapter 3 - BREAKFAST WITH THE MERCERSAt eight-thirty that morning, Jake Mercer sat at the breakfast table in his mother’s mansion complaining about his ruined wedding night.
He had no idea detectives were already collecting evidence.
He had no idea Sophie’s injuries had been photographed.
And he certainly had no idea the man whose company controlled his biggest contract had landed in the city before sunrise.
Caroline poured coffee as though nothing unusual had happened.
“You should have been firmer before the wedding,” she said.
Jake rubbed a scratch on his cheek.
“She went crazy.”
“She became emotional.”
“She hit me.”
“She was defending herself.”
Jake glared at his mother.
Caroline shrugged.
“Which is precisely why you should stop telling anyone that part.”
Across the table, Jake’s younger sister, Emma, quietly lowered her spoon.
She had been at the hotel the previous night.
Not inside the suite.
But close enough to hear screaming.
“What?” Jake snapped.
Emma looked at him.
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
“I said nothing.”
Caroline placed her cup down.
“Emma, this is a family matter.”
Emma’s voice tightened.
“I heard Sophie screaming.”
Jake leaned back.
“You heard an argument.”
“I heard her screaming for you to get off her.”
The room went silent.
Caroline’s expression hardened.
“Be extremely careful about what you claim to remember.”
Emma stared at her mother.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means emotional situations distort memory.”
“No. Fear distorts families.”
Jake shoved his chair back.
“You’ve always hated me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then stop acting like Sophie is innocent.”
Emma looked at the dried blood beneath Jake’s fingernail.
“What exactly did she do?”
Jake didn’t answer.
His phone rang.
He grabbed it.
“Mercer.”
His expression shifted.
“What?”
Caroline watched.
“When?”
Another pause.
“No. Don’t sign anything until I get there.”
He hung up.
“What happened?” Caroline asked.
“Brooks Urban froze the waterfront project.”
Caroline straightened.
“What do you mean froze?”
“They’re suspending all contractor disbursements pending internal review.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s seventeen million dollars of work.”
Emma frowned.
“Brooks Urban?”
Jake nodded angrily.
Caroline’s face changed slightly.
She knew the name.
Most people in their city did.
Brooks Urban Holdings had started buying distressed commercial property after the recession and had grown into one of the largest privately held development groups in the region.
Nobody saw its founder often.
He avoided television.
Rarely attended public events.
When his photograph appeared in business magazines, it was usually old.
People in construction called him the Boss.
Not because he demanded the title.
Because a frightening number of projects eventually led back to one of his companies.
Jake stood.
“I need to get downtown.”
Caroline grabbed his wrist.
“What about Sophie?”
“She’ll come back.”
Emma stared.
“You really believe that?”
Caroline smiled.
“She has nowhere else to go.”
At that exact moment, Sophie was sitting at my kitchen table between a detective and one of the most respected family-law attorneys in the state.
Her father stood by the window drinking black coffee.
I watched him from across the room.
Alex had changed.
The younger version of him hated waiting.
This version understood how powerful waiting could be.
Detective Maria Santos closed her notebook.
“Sophie, I’m going to ask something difficult.”
“Okay.”
“Did your husband prevent you from leaving the room?”
“Yes.”
“Physically?”
“Yes.”
“Did he participate in assaulting you?”
“He held me down while his mother hit me. He covered my mouth when I screamed.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“No.”
“Did they threaten you if you refused?”
“Yes.”
“What specifically?”
Sophie looked at me.
“Caroline said Jake could tell everyone I attacked him. She said the hotel would believe them because they paid for the wedding.”
Detective Santos nodded.
“There are security cameras in the corridor.”
Sophie’s attorney, Dana Mitchell, looked up.
“Already preserving footage.”
“And hotel keycard records?”
“Requested.”
Alex finally spoke.
“Don’t let anyone from my office contact the hotel directly.”
Dana looked at him.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“I want clean evidence. No appearance of pressure.”
Detective Santos studied him.
“You’ve done this before.”
“I’ve had enough lawyers explain chain of custody to me.”
She almost smiled.
Then the doorbell rang.
One of Alex’s security people answered.
A young woman stood outside holding a silver evening bag.
It was Emma Mercer.
Sophie stiffened.
“What is she doing here?”
Emma stepped inside slowly.
Her eyes landed on Sophie’s bruises.
The color drained from her face.
“Oh my God.”
Sophie stood.
“Why are you here?”
Emma began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I should’ve gone into that room.”
“What did you hear?”
Emma glanced at Detective Santos.
“Everything.”
Jake reached his office twenty-five minutes later and found forty employees gathered near the conference room.
“What’s going on?”
His chief financial officer approached.
“We have a problem.”
“I know about Brooks.”
“It isn’t only Brooks.”
“What now?”
“Two suppliers changed our terms to cash on delivery.”
Jake stared.
“Why?”
“They heard the waterfront project was suspended.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Jake pushed into his office.
His assistant hurried after him.
“The lender called too.”
“Which lender?”
“Allied.”
His stomach dropped.
Allied held the line of credit keeping Mercer Development alive.
“What do they want?”
“A meeting this afternoon.”
Jake loosened his tie.
“Call Richard at Brooks Urban.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He won’t take your call.”
“Call again.”
“I called six times.”
Jake snatched his own phone out.
“Who owns Brooks Urban?”
His assistant blinked.
“What?”
“The actual owner.”
“Publicly? It’s a private holding structure.”
“I know that. Who controls it?”
“I think a man named Alexander Brooks.”
Jake froze.
Brooks.
The name meant nothing for several seconds.
Then he remembered Sophie’s birth certificate.
Sophie Brooks.
Before she became Sophie Mercer.
“No.”
His assistant frowned.
“What?”
Jake searched the company online.
Alexander Brooks.
Fifty-six.
Founder.
Chairman.
There was one photograph from a charity gala seven years earlier.
Silver beginning at his temples.
Dark eyes.
Jake stared at it.
Then at the wedding photograph still sitting on his desk.
Sophie had once shown him an old picture of her father.
Younger.
Longer hair.
Same eyes.
Jake’s mouth went dry.
He called his mother.
She answered on the second ring.
“What?”
“Who is Sophie’s father?”
Caroline sounded irritated.
“Nobody. He disappeared years ago.”
“What was his first name?”
A pause.
“I don’t know. Alex, maybe.”
Jake closed his eyes.
“Alex what?”
“You know her maiden name.”
His knees weakened.
“Brooks.”
“What is this about?”
Jake looked through the glass wall of his office at employees whispering in the hallway.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“You remember Brooks Urban Holdings?”
“Of course.”
“Sophie’s father owns it.”
Caroline said nothing.
Jake continued.
“Not works there.”
He stared again at the photograph.
“Owns it.”
Caroline finally laughed.
“That’s impossible.”
“I’m looking at him.”
“He abandoned Sophie.”
“Apparently he didn’t abandon his companies.”
Caroline’s confidence cracked.
“How much is he worth?”
Jake searched.
Estimates varied wildly because the company was private.
Three billion.
Five.
Six.
No reliable number.
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“My seventeen-million-dollar project just got frozen.”
Caroline’s breathing changed.
“You think he knows?”
Jake looked at the message he had sent Sophie less than an hour earlier.
Your father is nobody.
A notification appeared.
Emergency board meeting.
11:30 A.M.
Required attendance.
Jake whispered, “Yeah.”
Caroline’s voice dropped.
“Jake?”
“He knows.”
At my house, Emma Mercer placed her silver evening bag on the kitchen table.
“I brought something.”
Detective Santos leaned forward.
“What?”
Emma opened the bag.
Inside was a phone.
“I started recording outside the hotel suite because I was scared.”
Sophie stared.
“Recording what?”
Emma unlocked the screen.
“There’s seventeen minutes.”
She pressed play.
Caroline’s voice filled the kitchen.
“You’ll sign it tonight, Sophie, or I swear to God you’ll regret ever marrying into this family.”
Then Jake’s voice.
“Hold her still.”
Sophie covered her mouth.
Alex did not move.
But something in his eyes went dark.
Emma whispered, “There’s more.”
The recording continued.
A slap.
Sophie crying.
Caroline shouting.
And then Jake saying the sentence that would eventually destroy almost everything he had built.
“Your father is gone. Nobody is coming.”
Alex reached over and stopped the recording.
He looked at his daughter.
“No.”
May you like
His voice was perfectly calm.
“He was wrong.”
Related Stories
