The Last Card
Holden silenced the call, but not before Elias caught the name on the screen: a bank compliance officer whose firm had been quietly investigating irregular transfers for the better part of a month, unrelated to the will, entirely coincidental to the timing — or not, depending on how much faith you put in coincidence.
"You should probably take that," Farida said mildly, "given the subject matter."
Holden didn't take it. He gathered his folder with hands that had lost their earlier confidence and walked out of the mediation room without asking for a recess, his lawyer trailing behind him already talking fast into his own phone.
Odette found Elias in the hallway afterward, leaning against the wall like it was the only thing holding her up.
"I didn't know," she said. "About the money. I swear to you, Elias, I had no idea he'd actually—"
"I believe you," Elias said, and meant it.
They didn't have long to process it. Two days later, Holden called an emergency meeting — not with Farida, not with lawyers, but with Elias directly, at a coffee shop two blocks from the plant, like he thought neutral ground might soften what he'd come to say.
"Drop the mediation," Holden said, without preamble. "Let it go, tell your lawyer the embezzlement claims were a misunderstanding, and I'll walk away from contesting the will. Quietly. No more courtroom, no more headlines."
"Or what?"
Holden's smile had no warmth in it at all. "Or I make sure everyone at that company, every vendor, every reporter who'll listen, hears about the disabled heir who let his brother take the fall for a scandal Dad orchestrated to protect his favorite son. You think it stops with me, Elias? Dad cooked those books first. I just kept it going."
The words landed heavier than Elias expected, not because he believed them outright, but because he recognized the shape of the lie — built from just enough truth to be dangerous.
"You're bluffing," Elias said, though his pulse had picked up.
"Am I?" Holden stood, buttoning his jacket with hands that were, Elias noticed, not quite steady. "You've got until Friday to decide how much you love this company's reputation. Because I've still got the original Ridgeline files, Elias, and I promise you — they don't say what Farida thinks they say."
He walked out before Elias could answer, leaving him alone at the small table, his father's ledger still in his bag, and a threat hanging in the air with only three days left to prove it was empty.