“We found Montgomery’s driver.”
Brennan went still.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Harbor medical clinic.”
Grace’s face tightened immediately.
“What happened?”
Caleb hesitated.
Then quietly:
“He was beaten badly.”
Twenty minutes later, Brennan and Grace entered the private clinic together.
The driver, Arthur Nolan, looked terrible.
Bruised jaw.
Split lip.
One arm in a sling.
Fear visible beneath every movement.
When he saw Brennan, he looked genuinely relieved.
“Mr. Ashford.”
Brennan stepped closer immediately.
“What happened?”
Arthur glanced nervously toward the hallway first.
Then lowered his voice.
“Your father dismissed security after leaving the estate.”
“Why?”
“He said he needed privacy.”
Brennan’s jaw tightened.
“Then what?”
Arthur swallowed painfully.
“He made me drive to Pier Forty-Seven.”
Grace exchanged a look with Brennan.
The harbor.
Arthur continued shakily.
“There was another man waiting there.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Tall. Gray coat. Foreign accent maybe.”
Fear flickered visibly across Arthur’s face again.
“They argued.”
Brennan frowned.
“About what?”
“I only heard pieces.”
Arthur’s breathing grew uneven.
“Your father kept saying the documents should have been destroyed years ago.”
Grace froze beside Brennan.
Then Arthur whispered the sentence that changed everything.
“The other man said Daniel Mercer wasn’t the only child.”
The room went silent.
Brennan felt the air leave his lungs slowly.
Grace looked horrified.
“No…”
Arthur nodded weakly.
“They mentioned multiple settlements. Missing assistance records. Children denied treatment.”
Brennan gripped the edge of the hospital bed.
Not one child.
Not one cover-up.
A system.
Arthur continued:
“Then your father saw me listening.”
Fear fully overtook his expression now.
“He pulled me out of the car himself.”
Grace covered her mouth.
Arthur’s voice trembled.
“He said loyal people know when not to hear things.”
Brennan’s entire body went cold.
“Did he hit you?”
Arthur laughed weakly.
“No. The other man did.”
The investigator stepped forward slightly.
“Why?”
Arthur looked down.
“Because I asked if children died.”
Silence again.
Then Arthur whispered:
“He told me dead children don’t bankrupt companies. Talking employees do.”
Grace physically recoiled hearing that.
Brennan stared at Arthur with horror growing deeper every second.
“How many people know about this?”
Arthur shook his head quickly.
“I don’t know. But your father wasn’t running from prison tonight.”
Brennan frowned.
“Then what was he doing?”
Arthur looked directly at him.
“He was protecting someone.”
The words landed heavily.
Because Brennan understood immediately.
Montgomery Ashford was ruthless.
But ruthless men rarely destroy themselves unless someone even more powerful stands behind them.
Grace spoke softly.
“The man at the harbor…”
Arthur nodded.
“He wasn’t scared of your father.”
That frightened Brennan more than anything else so far.
Because Montgomery spent his life becoming the most dangerous man in every room.
If someone else frightened him—
Then this reached far beyond Ashford Global.
Arthur suddenly grabbed Brennan’s sleeve weakly.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“He mentioned a storage facility.”
Grace stiffened instantly.
Brennan saw it.
“What kind of storage facility?”
Arthur swallowed.
“I heard your father say one phrase clearly before they attacked me.”
His voice lowered.
“Burn everything before sunrise.”
Every muscle in Brennan’s body locked.
Grace whispered:
“Oh my God.”
The copies.
The records.
The settlements.
Potential evidence.
Brennan turned immediately toward Caleb.
“Find every storage property connected to Ashford shell companies.”
Caleb was already typing.
“Working.”
The investigator stepped closer.
“If there’s physical evidence being destroyed, federal warrants—”
“Will take too long,” Brennan interrupted.
Grace looked at him sharply.
“What are you thinking?”
He already knew.
And judging by her expression—
So did she.
“You cannot seriously be considering going yourself,” Grace said.
“I know my father.”
“That’s exactly why this is dangerous.”
“He’s destroying evidence.”
“He threatened people!”
Brennan stepped closer.
“And if those records disappear, how many families never learn the truth?”
Grace looked away instantly.
Because that argument hurt.
She knew exactly what buried truth costs.
Still—
“You could get arrested.”
“Probably.”
“You could get hurt.”
“Likely.”
“You could get killed.”
Brennan held her gaze steadily.
“So could every truth your father buried.”
The room fell quiet again.
Then unexpectedly—
Grace laughed once softly.
Not because anything was funny.
Because exhaustion sometimes disguises itself that way.
“You know what the worst part is?” she whispered.
“What?”
“You’re starting to sound exactly like the kind of reckless person I would’ve admired before my life fell apart.”
Brennan almost smiled.
“Good or bad?”
“Extremely inconvenient.”
For one dangerous second, neither looked away.
And suddenly the air between them changed.
Not dramatically.
Not romantically.
Worse.
Honestly.
Then Caleb interrupted carefully.
“I found the property.”
Everyone turned instantly.
He rotated the tablet screen toward them.
Warehouse district near the harbor.
Owned through three shell corporations linked quietly to Ashford Global legal holdings.
And scheduled for emergency demolition at 6:00 a.m.
Brennan looked at the clock.
4:11 a.m.
Grace whispered:
“He’s really trying to erase everything.”
Brennan stared at the warehouse address.
Then slowly reached for his coat.
Grace watched him.
Already knowing.
Already afraid.
“Brennan…”
He looked at her.
And for the first time since this all began, she said his name like losing him would hurt.
“Don’t go alone.”…
