Chapter 8 - THE LETTER FROM PRISON
Three years had passed since the night Daniel dragged me across the marble floor.
Three years since the video of that assault had spread across the country.
Three years since the Blackwood family had lost the company they had spent generations believing belonged to them.
And, for the first time in my life, I had stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.
At least, I thought I had.
That changed on a Tuesday morning when Maya walked into my office carrying a white envelope.
She did not knock.
She simply closed the door behind her and placed the envelope on my desk.
“You need to read this.”
I looked at the return address.
County Correctional Facility.
I knew immediately.
“Daniel?”
Maya nodded.
“He requested certified correspondence to you.”
I stared at the envelope.
For three years, I had received letters from him.
Most were angry.
Some were apologetic.
Others were simply incoherent attempts to rewrite the past.
I had never opened them.
Maya knew that.
“This one is different.”
“How?”
“He says he has information about Blackwood Manufacturing.”
I looked at her.
“The company is stable.”
“I know.”
“Then what does he know?”
“That is why I brought it.”
I opened the envelope.
One page.
Daniel's handwriting.
Evelyn,
I know you have every reason to hate me.
I am not writing to ask for forgiveness.
I am writing because there are things I did not know when I entered that marriage.
Dad did not tell me everything.
Neither did Mom.
Blackwood Manufacturing had hidden liabilities before I ever became CEO.
There is a second set of books.
They are not in the company servers.
They are not in the corporate archives.
They are hidden somewhere Clara knew about.
If you don't find them, someone else will.
And when they do, they will come for you.
I read the final sentence twice.
Maya watched my face.
“What?”
I handed her the letter.
She read it.
Her expression changed.
“Do you believe him?”
“I don't know.”
“He could be trying to manipulate you.”
“He could.”
Maya placed the letter down.
“Then why tell us?”
“Because he has nothing left to gain.”
“People in prison can still manipulate.”
I nodded.
That was true.
But there was one sentence I couldn't ignore.
They are hidden somewhere Clara knew about.
Aunt Clara.
The woman whose investment had saved Blackwood Manufacturing before I ever met Daniel.
The woman who had transferred the controlling shares to me.
The woman who had warned me never to trust anyone who wanted to know how much power I held.
Clara had died believing the company was safe.
But Daniel claimed there were hidden liabilities.
I called Arthur Sterling.
He arrived within an hour.
When I showed him the letter, his face became serious.
“Your aunt and I discussed something similar years ago.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Before Clara died, she suspected Richard Blackwood was hiding obligations.”
“Debt?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
Arthur sat down.
“Guarantees.”
I frowned.
“Personal guarantees?”
“Yes.”
“On what?”
Arthur rubbed his temple.
“Several ventures outside Blackwood Manufacturing.”
“That sounds like Richard.”
“It was worse than that.”
He looked at me.
“Richard had been using company assets to guarantee private deals.”
My stomach tightened.
“Could those guarantees still exist?”
“Possibly.”
“If they do, the company could be exposed.”
Arthur nodded.
“And whoever owns those claims could try to force a restructuring.”
Maya looked up.
“Which means someone could try to take the company from Evelyn.”
Silence filled my office.
I looked at Daniel's letter again.
He had spent years trying to destroy me.
Why warn me now?
Because even from prison, Daniel knew something.
Something dangerous.
I stood.
“Where would Clara have kept records?”
Arthur thought for a moment.
“She had a private storage facility.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“She never told me.”
That was unusual.
Arthur had been Clara's business partner for decades.
If there was something she hid from him, it had to be significant.
Maya stood.
“We find it.”
That afternoon, we began searching old estate records.
The results led us to a storage company outside the city.
A locker had been rented under Clara's name for fourteen years.
No one had accessed it since her death.
I stared at the paperwork.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Arthur shrugged.
“Maybe Clara intended to.”
“Or maybe she knew someone would look.”
The next morning, we opened the locker.
Inside were boxes.
Dozens of them.
Old financial documents.
Photographs.
Contracts.
Letters.
And a locked metal case.
My name was written across the lid.
FOR EVELYN — ONLY AFTER THE BLACKWOOD FAMILY IS GONE.
I stared at it.
Maya looked at me.
“When were these instructions written?”
The date was six months before Clara died.
I opened the case.
Inside was a single folder.
And on the first page was a list of names.
Most were people connected to Blackwood Manufacturing.
But one name stood out.
A name I had never seen before.
Nathaniel Cross.
Arthur went completely still.
I looked at him.
“You know him.”
His face had gone pale.
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
Arthur swallowed.
“Richard Blackwood's former financial partner.”
“Where is he now?”
Arthur shook his head.
“He died twenty years ago.”
I looked back at the list.
“Then why did Clara circle his name?”
Arthur stared at the page.
“Because Nathaniel Cross wasn't the real problem.”
“Then who was?”
He turned the page.
Beneath Nathaniel's name was another name.
One that made my blood run cold.
Blackwood Family Trust — Beneficiary Pending.
Maya looked at me.
“What does that mean?”
I didn't know.
But I knew one thing.
May you like
The Blackwood story was not over.
And the next chapter had already been written before I ever entered their house.
