Chapter 5 - NOT ONE DOLLAR MOREMarcus reached his penthouse shortly before midnight.
A building manager waited in the lobby.
“Mr. Reed, I received instructions from the property owner.”
“I know. My father is being dramatic.”
“The unit must be vacated by tomorrow evening.”
Marcus laughed.
“You believe he’ll enforce that?”
“I have a written notice.”
“Throw it away.”
“I cannot.”
Marcus entered the elevator.
His access card worked.
For now.
Inside the penthouse, music played beside open champagne bottles.
Blake Sutton sat on the terrace with three friends.
When Marcus entered, Blake smiled.
“How did dinner go?”
“My father cut me off.”
The others became quiet.
Blake stood.
“For how long?”
Marcus removed his jacket.
“Until he gets over himself.”
“Did he mention Crown Meridian?”
“No.”
That answer came too quickly.
Blake studied him.
“Are you sure?”
Marcus poured a drink.
“He called his lawyer.”
Blake’s smile disappeared.
“What did he say?”
“Something about the revised will.”
“Forget the will. Did he mention the loan?”
Marcus looked toward the terrace.
“No.”
Blake immediately took out his phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Our financial manager.”
“It’s midnight.”
“If your father freezes the Reed accounts, the project collapses.”
Marcus’s anger turned to fear.
“You said investor money would cover the next phase.”
“It would have if your father’s name remained attached.”
“It is attached.”
“Only if he does not publicly deny it.”
Marcus’s phone rang.
William Hart’s name appeared.
He answered.
“Your company cards have been suspended,” William said.
“Your right to occupy the penthouse ends tomorrow at six. The vehicle must be returned to Reed Holdings.”
“You work for my family.”
“I represent your father and the trust.”
“I am a beneficiary.”
“Not of operational accounts.”
Marcus looked at Blake.
“What about my inheritance?”
“You will receive the revised documents tomorrow.”
“Tell me now.”
William paused.
“If you fail the conditions, the will provides you exactly one dollar.”
Marcus stopped breathing.
“One dollar?”
“The remaining estate will pass to employee trusts and charitable foundations.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am reading the document.”
Marcus ended the call.
Blake approached.
“What happened?”
Marcus stared at the illuminated water beyond the terrace.
“He cut me out.”
The other guests quietly gathered their belongings.
One claimed an early meeting.
Another avoided Marcus’s eyes.
Within minutes, the penthouse emptied.
Only Blake remained.
“Move the remaining Crown Meridian money tonight,” he said.
“Where?”
“An offshore account.”
“That looks guilty.”
“It looks safe.”
Marcus looked at his friend.
For the first time, he wondered whose future Blake was protecting.
“No.”
Blake’s expression changed.
“If the project fails, the lenders come after both of us.”
“My father will solve it.”
“You just said he cut you off.”
Marcus lifted his drink.
“He won’t let me go to prison.”
Blake looked almost pitying.
“You slapped him, forged his signature and risked company land.”
“How do you know about the slap?”
Marcus had told no one.
Blake raised his phone.
A message from Eleanor’s former assistant described what happened at dinner.
News was already moving through Miami’s wealthy circles.
Blake stepped toward the door.
“Your name is valuable only while your father protects it.”
After he left, Marcus stood alone in the penthouse.
His credit card was declined when he tried to order another bottle.
May you like
Jonathan had meant every word.
Not one dollar more.
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