Chapter 20 - What Friendship CostGrant did not react.
Spencer leaned back.
“You want me to say none of it was real.”
“I didn’t ask that.”
“You want a clean story.”
“No.”
Grant thought of Melanie.
Of Ayla.
Of Serena.
Clean stories were comforting.
Truth was messier.
Spencer continued.
“I was your friend. I also resented you.”
“For what?”
“Everything came easier to you.”
Grant almost laughed.
“My father treated me like a disappointment until the day he died.”
“And still gave you the company.”
“He gave me responsibility.”
“He gave you his name.”
“You had your own.”
Spencer shook his head.
“You don’t understand.”
“No. I probably don’t.”
That answer irritated Spencer.
Grant saw it.
He was accustomed to controlling the emotional shape of conversations.
Grant no longer needed to beat him.
“Did you target Melanie?”
Spencer smiled faintly.
“She targeted herself.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“She was unhappy.”
“So you used it.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love her?”
“No.”
Grant expected pain.
There was surprisingly little.
He had stopped needing their affair to mean something.
“Did you tell her to hurt Ayla?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her to frighten her?”
“Yes.”
Grant’s hands tightened.
“Why?”
“Because the girl kept going through Serena’s things.”
“She was looking at her mother’s belongings.”
“She was finding documents.”
“So you decided she was a threat.”
“I decided children repeat things.”
Grant stared.
Spencer continued as if discussing logistics.
“Melanie was supposed to keep her away from the office and Serena’s records.”
“By terrorizing her?”
“I didn’t tell her how.”
“And that matters to you?”
“Legally? Yes.”
Grant almost stood.
Rachel touched his sleeve.
He remained seated.
Spencer said, “Melanie was always more unstable than you realized.”
Grant responded quietly.
“I realized too late.”
“Yes.”
“Because you helped me not realize.”
Spencer smiled.
“That was easy.”
Grant absorbed the insult.
Then let it go.
“Why the trust?”
“The house was valuable.”
“You already stole millions.”
“It wasn’t just the house.”
Grant frowned.
Spencer continued.
“Hawthorne Ridge controls access to the eastern parcel.”
“What eastern parcel?”
Rachel looked up.
Spencer smiled.
There it was.
One final piece.
The Mercer trust owned not only the mansion grounds but forty-two undeveloped acres bordering a planned transportation corridor.
Grant knew the land.
Protected woods.
Serena had refused every development proposal.
“What about it?”
Spencer said, “Your father knew.”
“Knew what?”
“A state transportation study has been moving quietly for years.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“You had inside information?”
“Nothing illegal.”
Grant almost laughed.
Spencer continued.
“If the preferred route is approved, land around Hawthorne Ridge becomes extremely valuable for commercial development.”
“How valuable?”
“Potentially thirty to forty million.”
Grant went still.
The trust’s $6.4 million estimate was based on current residential value.
Not redevelopment.
Spencer had not been targeting a wealthy child’s house.
He had been targeting land potentially worth five times more.
“How long did you know?”
“Three years.”
“Did Melanie?”
“Enough.”
Grant understood.
Melanie had thought she was fighting Serena’s memory for a mansion.
Spencer understood the real prize.
The eastern parcel.
“Friday’s restructuring would have tied it up.”
“Yes.”
“Then North Channel acquires claims after default.”
“Potentially.”
“You would have forced litigation until the trust company settled.”
Spencer smiled.
“Litigation is expensive.”
Grant wanted to hit him.
Instead he asked:
“Did my father know about the transportation study?”
“An earlier version.”
“That’s why he cared about North Channel?”
“Partly.”
Grant looked at Rachel.
Another hidden motive.
Another layer.
But this one did not require a new conspiracy.
It explained the intensity.
Why Spencer kept returning to Serena’s trust.
Why Melanie obsessed over title.
Why Friday mattered.
Grant stood.
“We’re done.”
Spencer looked almost disappointed.
“You’re walking away from thirty million dollars?”
“It isn’t mine.”
“It’s your daughter’s.”
“Yes.”
“And what does an eleven-year-old need with forty acres?”
Grant stopped.
That sentence sounded exactly like Thomas.
What did children need with ownership?
What did family need with boundaries?
Power belonged to whoever could use it.
Grant turned.
“Ayla needs adults who understand the word no.”
Then he left.
That evening, he told Ayla a simplified version.
“The land around the house may become valuable someday.”
“How valuable?”
“A lot.”
“Is that why Melanie wanted it?”
“Partly.”
Ayla looked out toward the woods.
“Mom liked those trees.”
“I know.”
“She said Grandpa wanted to build houses there.”
“He did.”
“She said no.”
“Yes.”
Ayla smiled faintly.
“Mom said no a lot.”
Grant laughed softly.
“Yes, she did.”
Ayla looked at him.
“Can I say no too?”
“To what?”
“To selling.”
Grant’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“Even if I’m grown up and people say it’s stupid?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it’s worth millions?”
“Yes.”
Ayla nodded.
“Then no.”
Grant smiled.
May you like
For four years, powerful adults had maneuvered around Serena’s final boundary.
Her daughter had just reinforced it with one word.
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