She Laughed at His $500 Bid—Then the Auctioneer Said, “The Factory Is His.”
Chapter 8
They reached the roof.
Wind tore through Vivian’s wet hair.
Ethan pushed open the emergency exit.
“Go.”
Vivian didn’t move.
“Did my father leave the factory to you?”
Ethan looked away.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
The world seemed to tilt.
“Why?”
“Because he believed you would be safer without it.”
Vivian laughed once.
There was nothing funny about it.
“He took my inheritance away to protect me?”
“He thought he was.”
“From what?”
Ethan looked at the red box.
“From the people who were stealing from him.”
Vivian opened it.
Inside was a ledger.
And beneath it, dozens of photographs.
Bank transfers.
Property records.
Names.
She turned page after page.
Millions of dollars had moved through shell companies.
Mercer Industrial Works hadn’t been failing.
Someone had been draining it.
And the payments led to one company.
Vale Holdings.
Vivian’s fingers tightened around the ledger.
“Richard.”
Ethan nodded.
“He used your father’s company as a machine for moving money.”
“Then why did my father die?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
Vivian looked at him.
“Why?”
Finally he said:
“Because he found out.”
A siren sounded below.
Police cars were entering the factory yard.
Ethan grabbed the ledger.
“We need to go.”
Vivian pulled it back.
“No.”
He stared at her.
“For eighteen months, everyone told me my father ruined this company.”
She held up the ledger.
“I want the truth.”
Ethan’s voice softened.
“Then we’re going to get it.”
But neither of them noticed the tiny red light blinking inside the box.
Someone was recording them.
And the person watching had already sent the footage to Richard Vale.
