Chapter 6 - DAMIEN CHOSE HIS SONS
I expected Damien to explode.
Instead, he became terrifyingly calm.
“Call the police.”
Rachel was already doing it.
“Then call the school,” Damien said. “Tell them nobody moves the boys until Mara arrives personally.”
“I already told them.”
“Good.”
He turned to his security director.
“Two cars. No logos. No one approaches the school except Mara and Rachel.”
I stared at him.
“What about you?”
“If reporters see me arriving, they'll swarm the entrance.”
He was right.
“I'll follow separately.”
Samuel stopped him.
“Damien.”
“What?”
“If Anthony or Celeste is behind this, they may want you emotional.”
“I am emotional.”
“They want you reckless.”
Damien looked toward me.
Then nodded.
“No reckless decisions.”
It was probably the first time in his life he'd said those words while actually meaning them.
The police took the attempted pickup seriously.
Security footage showed a man in a baseball cap entering the preschool office at 1:42 p.m.
His face was partially visible.
Damien didn't recognize him.
Neither did I.
The documents were professionally prepared.
My forged signature looked almost identical to the one on Celeste's settlement.
Rachel noticed that too.
“The same person may have produced both.”
Police collected the papers.
By sunset, Ethan and Noah were home.
I didn't tell them someone had tried to take them.
I simply said there had been a problem with the pickup list.
Ethan accepted that.
Noah watched me.
He knew something was wrong.
Damien stayed outside until I invited him in.
That distinction mattered to me.
He could have used his money and security to take control.
Instead, he waited.
When he stepped into the living room, Ethan ran toward him holding a superhero figure.
“Look!”
Damien crouched.
“Who is that?”
Ethan gasped dramatically.
“You don't know Thunder Titan?”
“I'm afraid not.”
“Wow.”
Ethan looked at Noah.
“He really missed everything.”
Damien laughed.
Then his eyes filled.
He covered it by examining the toy.
I pretended not to notice.
Later that evening, after the boys were asleep, Damien and I sat in the kitchen.
Rachel had gone.
Two security guards watched the street.
“I want you to take the boys somewhere secure,” Damien said.
“No.”
“Mara.”
“They're not moving into one of your mansions.”
“I didn't say that.”
“You were about to.”
He almost smiled.
“I was going to offer my father's house in Connecticut.”
“No.”
“It has controlled access.”
“No.”
“Then let me upgrade security here.”
I looked around my modest home.
The locks suddenly felt flimsy.
“Temporary.”
“Temporary.”
“No cameras inside.”
“Agreed.”
“No one enters without permission.”
“Agreed.”
“And your mother does not come within a mile of this house.”
His expression hardened.
“She won't.”
My phone rang.
Detective Laura Sanchez.
She was handling the attempted pickup.
“We identified the man.”
I stood.
“Who is he?”
“Former chauffeur. Name is Dean Keller.”
“Works for the Mercers?”
“Worked for Mercer Industries until last year.”
I looked at Damien.
He shook his head.
Didn't know him.
Sanchez continued.
“We found something interesting.”
“What?”
“He claims he was hired through an encrypted messaging service.”
“By who?”
“He doesn't know.”
“That's convenient.”
“He was paid ten thousand dollars to collect the children and drive them to the White Plains airfield.”
My stomach turned.
“And then?”
“He says someone else was supposed to meet them.”
“Who?”
“He doesn't know.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I believe he knows less than whoever hired him.”
After the call, Damien stared out the window.
“Anthony has access to former employee records.”
“So does your mother.”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“I don't know.”
For the first time, I heard fear in his voice.
Not fear for himself.
For them.
The next morning, Celeste appeared on television.
I nearly dropped my coffee.
She stood outside Mercer Industries surrounded by reporters.
Her expression was composed.
“I categorically deny any allegation that I have ever harmed or threatened Mara Bennett or her children.”
Reporter questions erupted.
Celeste continued.
“I recently learned that Ms. Bennett has made several serious accusations against members of my family. I believe these accusations are financially motivated.”
I stared at the screen.
Damien entered the kitchen behind me.
He stopped when he saw his mother.
Another reporter shouted, “Did you offer Ms. Bennett two million dollars?”
Celeste smiled sadly.
“There was a confidential agreement negotiated years ago. I cannot discuss private legal matters.”
The words were perfect.
Not technically an admission.
Enough to make the forged agreement look legitimate.
Then a reporter asked, “Do you believe the twins are Damien Mercer's children?”
Celeste paused.
And lied directly into the camera.
“I have seen no credible evidence establishing that.”
Damien walked toward the television.
“Turn it up.”
Celeste continued.
“I love my son. I hope he protects himself against people who may exploit his compassion.”
That did it.
Damien took out his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Ending this.”
He called someone.
“Schedule a press conference.”
I stood.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You said no press.”
“This isn't about defending the company.”
“Then what?”
“Defending you.”
“I don't need—”
“Mara.”
His voice was quiet.
“My mother just accused the mother of my children of extortion on national television.”
His eyes hardened.
“Five years ago, I stayed silent when you needed me to speak.”
He looked at the screen.
“I'm not doing it twice.”
An hour later Damien Mercer walked onto the front steps of Mercer Industries.
Every major financial network carried it live.
I watched from home.
He had no prepared statement.
No board members.
No public-relations team.
Just himself.
“Five years ago,” he began, “Mara Bennett told me she was pregnant.”
The reporters went silent.
“I responded badly.”
My throat tightened.
“I was afraid of family pressure, business pressure and a future I wasn't prepared to face.”
He looked directly into the cameras.
“I gave Mara information for a clinic and money. She refused both and left.”
He wasn't protecting himself.
That surprised me.
“I am not proud of what I did.”
Flashbulbs exploded.
“Months later, I was shown documents indicating the pregnancy had ended. I was later told Mara accepted two million dollars to sever contact with my family.”
Damien paused.
“I now believe those documents were fraudulent.”
Reporters shouted questions.
He raised his voice.
“DNA testing completed this week confirms Ethan and Noah Bennett are my biological sons.”
My heart stopped.
He had just claimed them publicly.
Not as heirs.
Not as assets.
As sons.
“Their mother did not extort me. She did not hide them for financial gain. She raised them alone because I failed her when she needed me.”
I covered my mouth.
Damien looked straight into the camera.
“Any suggestion otherwise is a lie.”
Then came the part nobody expected.
“Effective immediately, I am taking a leave of absence as chief executive of Mercer Industries until the company's independent directors investigate whether corporate resources were used to monitor Mara Bennett or her children.”
Financial reporters began shouting.
Mercer stock moved instantly.
I could see the ticker dropping.
He was sacrificing his position.
And possibly billions.
One reporter screamed, “Are you accusing your mother?”
Damien paused.
“I am accusing anyone who participated.”
“Does that include Celeste Mercer?”
“If the evidence leads there.”
“Are you worried about losing control of Mercer Industries?”
Damien's answer came without hesitation.
“No company is worth losing my sons.”
I sat completely still.
Five years ago, the company had mattered more than us.
Today he had said the opposite in front of the entire world.
The press conference ended.
My phone rang.
Celeste.
I almost declined.
Instead, I answered.
“You're finished,” she said.
I laughed softly.
“You sound nervous.”
“You have no idea what you've unleashed.”
“Actually, I'm starting to.”
“Damien will lose everything.”
“Maybe.”
“And when he does, he'll blame you.”
“That's between Damien and me.”
Celeste's voice sharpened.
“You think you've won because he stood in front of cameras?”
“No.”
“Then listen carefully. Anthony is not the man you should fear.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Who is?”
She paused.
Then whispered, “Richard.”
I frowned.
“Richard is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“The trust wasn't created to protect your sons.”
A chill moved through me.
“What?”
“It was created because Richard knew they existed.”
I stopped breathing.
“He knew before he died.”
“That isn't possible.”
“He knew before Damien did.”
My voice disappeared.
Celeste continued.
“And if Samuel Reeves opens the final envelope Richard left behind, Damien is going to discover why his father kept silent too.”
She hung up.
Ten minutes later Samuel Reeves called.
His voice was grim.
“Mara, Damien needs to come to my office.”
“What happened?”
“I found an envelope concealed behind the trust documents.”
“For Damien?”
“No.”
May you like
A pause.
“For you.”
