Chapter 10 - Six WeeksVictoria gave a full statement.
Not because she had suddenly become good.
Because she was terrified of Martin.
She admitted almost everything.
The planted drugs.
The theft accusations.
The staged school complaints.
The affair.
The beehive.
The plan to make Noah appear unstable.
She admitted Martin had told her to create an “accident.”
She claimed she never intended Noah to die.
Noah didn't believe her.
Neither did police.
But her information mattered.
Rachel's second trust changed the case.
If Robert died before Noah turned sixteen, a special holding structure took control of his voting shares.
The trustee named in an old document was Martin Hale.
Robert stared at his attorney.
“How?”
Victoria answered,
“Rachel signed it years ago.”
“Rachel would never make Martin trustee.”
“She didn't.”
“What?”
“The document was changed.”
Forgery.
Again.
Martin had inserted himself.
If Robert died before Noah's birthday, Martin gained temporary control over enough shares to control Whitmore Development.
Noah asked,
“Why not kill Dad first?”
Victoria looked ashamed.
“Because then you would challenge the trust.”
“So I had to look unstable.”
“Yes.”
“Or die.”
She looked down.
Robert's face went cold.
Noah had never seen his father look at anyone with such complete absence of feeling.
“Why the hive?”
Victoria whispered,
“Because you were allergic as a child.”
Noah froze.
“What?”
Robert stared.
“He isn't allergic.”
“He was tested after a sting when he was five.”
Robert shook his head.
“Mild reaction.”
“Martin told me it was severe.”
Noah understood.
Martin manipulated Victoria too.
Not enough to excuse her.
Enough to explain why she expected bees to kill him quickly.
But biology didn't cooperate.
The swarm had followed movement, agitation, scent, and proximity.
Noah stayed tied and relatively still.
Victoria and Emily ran, swatted, screamed.
The “perfect accident” attacked the planners instead.
The irony wasn't lost on anyone.
Victoria was charged.
Emily was not.
Police viewed her as coerced and, more importantly, as the person who returned to free Noah and fought Victoria.
Thomas faced charges for obstruction and evidence tampering.
He agreed to cooperate.
Martin disappeared.
Six days passed.
No sign.
Federal authorities joined the search.
Noah returned to school under security.
Everyone knew something happened.
News vans sat outside the gates.
Headlines called it:
BILLIONAIRE HEIR BEEHIVE MURDER PLOT
Noah hated it.
He wasn't an heir at school.
He was Noah.
Or he had been.
Now classmates whispered.
People who never spoke to him wanted selfies.
Girls suddenly wanted his number.
He stopped trusting everyone.
Then one afternoon his best friend Lucas sat beside him at lunch.
“You look like crap.”
Noah laughed.
“Thank you.”
“My mom says I shouldn't mention the bee thing.”
“Your mom is smart.”
“So I'm mentioning it.”
Noah smiled for the first time that day.
Lucas continued.
“Did they really attack your stepmom instead?”
“Yes.”
“That's kind of—”
“Don't say karma.”
“I was going to say metal.”
Noah laughed.
Then Lucas's expression changed.
“What?”
Lucas slid an envelope across the table.
“This was in my locker.”
Noah stopped smiling.
“For me?”
“Your name.”
Noah opened it.
A photograph.
Robert getting into his car that morning.
Red X over his chest.
On the back:
SIX WEEKS IS A LONG TIME.
Noah immediately called security.
The school locked down.
Federal agents arrived.
Lucas's locker camera showed a janitor placing the envelope.
The janitor was questioned.
He said a man paid him $200 to deliver it.
Description?
Baseball cap.
Sunglasses.
Older.
Could be Martin.
Could be anyone.
Robert moved Noah to a secure property.
Noah hated that too.
“You're locking me away.”
“I'm keeping you alive.”
“Victoria said things like that.”
Robert flinched.
Wrong comparison.
Noah regretted it instantly.
But Robert nodded.
“You're right.”
“I didn't mean—”
“No. You're right.”
He sat across from his son.
“I've spent years deciding what was best for you without asking what you needed.”
Noah looked down.
Robert continued.
“So tell me.”
“I want to know what's happening.”
“Okay.”
“No secrets.”
“Okay.”
“I want to help.”
Robert hesitated.
Noah saw it.
“No secrets.”
His father sighed.
“Martin contacted me.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What did he say?”
“He wants a meeting.”
“Where?”
“He hasn't said.”
“What does he want?”
Robert looked at Noah.
“You.”
Noah stopped breathing.
“He says he'll surrender.”
“In exchange for me?”
“No.”
Robert swallowed.
“He says there's something Rachel left with you when you were a child.”
Noah frowned.
“I don't remember.”
“Neither do I.”
“What?”
“A key.”
Noah stared.
Martin had spent seven years searching for Rachel's final evidence.
Maybe everything so far was still missing one piece.
Then Noah remembered something.
Not a key exactly.
A necklace.
His mother had given it to him in the hospital.
A tiny silver bee.
He hadn't worn it since childhood.
Noah slowly stood.
Robert watched.
“What?”
May you like
Noah whispered,
“I think I know what Martin wants.”
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