Chapter 2 - The Brother’s ConfessionAlistair Mercer chose a restaurant with no cameras near the private dining room.
That alone told Naomi he was afraid.
He was already seated when she arrived, blond hair neatly combed, dark suit immaculate, whiskey untouched beside his hand.
He rose.
“Naomi.”
She did not offer her hand.
“You slept with your brother’s fiancée.”
Alistair flinched.
“I deserved that.”
“You deserve more than that.”
Beatrix entered behind Naomi and closed the door.
“This conversation is privileged only to the extent your attorney arranged,” she warned. “Do not assume anything you say disappears.”
Alistair nodded.
“I understand.”
Naomi sat opposite him.
“Then explain.”
He looked older than the last time she had seen him at a Mercer family Christmas three years earlier. Back then, he had joked constantly, hiding discomfort behind charm.
Today there was no charm.
“Camille came to me in February,” he said.
Naomi’s face remained still.
“Before Roland proposed?”
“Before the public proposal. They were already discussing marriage.”
“And you slept with her anyway.”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
He looked at the table.
“Three.”
Naomi gave a humorless laugh.
“How romantic.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then what was it?”
Alistair swallowed.
“A mistake the first time. Leverage the second. Fear the third.”
Beatrix leaned forward.
“Explain leverage.”
Alistair rubbed his thumb along the edge of his glass.
“Camille knew about Northstar.”
Naomi’s eyes sharpened.
“What did she know?”
“That Roland had been moving money through it.”
“You received payments.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Roland told me to.”
Naomi sat back.
For years, the Mercer family had treated Roland as the responsible heir and Alistair as the unserious younger brother.
Roland ran Mercer Holdings.
Alistair managed a smaller development division and collected expensive hobbies.
But Naomi remembered something others missed.
Alistair was not stupid.
He was merely accustomed to letting Roland be the smartest person in every room.
“Roland told you Northstar was legitimate?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
Alistair’s jaw tightened.
“I realized invoices were being inflated.”
“How?”
“One construction consultant billed us four hundred thousand dollars for work I knew cost less than ninety.”
“And you stayed quiet.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Roland said the extra money was covering political consulting and private acquisitions.”
Beatrix asked, “Did you believe him?”
“For a while.”
Naomi watched him carefully.
“What changed?”
“Camille.”
He looked at Naomi.
“She started asking questions about our vendor accounts. Which contracts could be moved. Which subsidiaries required two signatures. Which board members hated Roland.”
Naomi felt cold.
“Why would Roland’s mistress care about corporate controls?”
Alistair shook his head.
“That’s what I started wondering.”
“Then she slept with you.”
“Yes.”
“Coincidence?”
“No.”
The word landed heavily.
Beatrix opened her notebook.
“What did Camille want?”
“She wanted access.”
“To what?”
“The Mercer Family Trust voting schedule.”
Naomi frowned.
Roland owned the largest individual stake in Mercer Holdings, but part of the company remained under a family trust established by his father, Jonathan Mercer.
Naomi had never been involved directly.
Alistair continued.
“The trust changes when Roland has a biological child.”
Naomi froze.
Beatrix stopped writing.
“What changes?”
“A child triggers a new beneficiary class.”
Naomi stared at him.
“And voting rights?”
“Eventually.”
“How eventually?”
“When the child is born, Roland gets temporary enhanced voting authority over certain trust assets until the child reaches twenty-five.”
Beatrix’s expression hardened.
“How much control?”
“Enough to approve the sale of two real-estate subsidiaries without my consent.”
Naomi understood instantly.
“That’s why the pregnancy matters.”
Alistair nodded.
“It isn’t just emotional.”
Naomi thought of the photograph: Roland’s hand across Camille’s belly.
Everything happens for a reason.
“Does Roland know the baby isn’t his?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Does Camille know you took the paternity test seriously?”
“She agreed because I threatened to tell Roland we slept together unless she tested.”
“And when the result came back?”
“She told me to destroy it.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
His voice lowered.
“Because she wasn’t shocked.”
Silence.
Naomi leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
“When the lab confirmed I was the father, Camille didn’t cry. She didn’t panic. She said, ‘That complicates the timeline.’”
Naomi felt something settle inside her.
Not rage.
Structure.
A plan had existed.
Maybe before the pregnancy.
Maybe before the divorce.
“Did she intentionally try to become pregnant by you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
Naomi stood and walked toward the window.
“Roland blamed me for infertility while he knew his own diagnosis. Camille knew our marriage was collapsing. Then she started sleeping with Roland. Later she slept with you. Now she’s carrying your child while convincing Roland it’s his.”
Alistair’s shoulders sagged.
“Yes.”
“And corporate money was moving through a company benefiting her.”
“Yes.”
Naomi turned.
“Why tell me?”
For the first time, Alistair looked directly ashamed.
“Because I helped them hurt you before I knew how deep it went.”
Naomi’s expression changed.
“What did you do?”
Alistair reached into his jacket.
Beatrix immediately said, “Slowly.”
He removed a flash drive.
“I gave Roland internal numbers from Asterline.”
Naomi went still.
Asterline Compliance was the firm Naomi had founded under her maiden name through a holding company years before Roland understood its significance.
It handled regulatory analytics and contract verification for dozens of corporations, including Mercer Holdings.
Roland believed Naomi had merely invested in it.
Very few people knew she controlled it.
“What numbers?” Naomi asked.
“Client margins. Contract renewals. Forecasts.”
“How did you get them?”
“Camille.”
Naomi stared.
Camille had worked briefly as Naomi’s executive assistant during Asterline’s earliest years.
She had retained access longer than Naomi realized.
“When?”
“Two years before your divorce.”
Naomi felt the betrayal physically.
Not because of Roland.
Because she remembered Camille bringing soup to her apartment after a failed embryo transfer during that exact period.
Camille had sat beside her bed, holding her hand.
At the same time, she had apparently been stealing from her.
“What did Roland do with the information?”
Alistair pushed the flash drive across the table.
“He used it to pressure vendors into renegotiating contracts. And I think he used your confidential projections to undervalue Asterline during the divorce.”
Beatrix picked up the drive without connecting it.
“Chain of custody?”
“My lawyer made a forensic copy. This is sealed.”
Naomi’s voice became quiet.
“So my settlement may have been based on manipulated valuations.”
“Yes.”
“Did Roland know I founded Asterline?”
“I don’t know when he learned.”
“But Camille knew.”
“Yes.”
Naomi sat again.
A strange sadness passed through her.
She had spent years believing Camille betrayed her because she wanted Roland.
Now she wondered if Roland had ever been the real prize.
“What happens Saturday?” Naomi asked.
Alistair’s eyes flickered.
“Roland announces a restructuring.”
“At the baby shower?”
“He calls it a family legacy announcement.”
“What restructuring?”
Alistair hesitated.
“Sale of Mercer Urban Development.”
“For how much?”
“Four hundred and twenty million.”
“To whom?”
“An investment group called Halcyon Ridge.”
Beatrix immediately looked at Naomi.
Naomi recognized the name.
Halcyon Ridge had tried to acquire Asterline eighteen months earlier.
She had refused.
“Who controls Halcyon?” Naomi asked.
Alistair looked sick.
“I don’t know.”
Naomi did.
Not the person.
The pattern.
A shell behind a shell.
Corporate structures designed to make ownership expensive to discover.
Exactly like Northstar.
Naomi picked up her handbag.
“Where are you going?”
“To work.”
Alistair stood.
“What about Saturday?”
Naomi looked at him.
“I’m going.”
His face tightened.
“Camille expects you to come?”
“She expects me to come humiliated.”
“And Roland?”
“He expects applause.”
Beatrix asked quietly, “What are you planning?”
Naomi thought of the gift box already waiting in her closet.
Gold ribbon.
Cream card.
Perfectly polite.
“I’m going to give them exactly what they asked for.”
Alistair frowned.
“What?”
“A celebration.”
She opened the door.
Then she looked back.
“But first, Alistair, I need to know who owns Halcyon Ridge.”
His expression shifted.
Naomi noticed.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“That was too fast.”
Alistair looked toward Beatrix, then back at Naomi.
Finally, he said, “There’s a reason Roland wants the sale announced before the baby is born.”
“What reason?”
Alistair’s voice dropped.
“Because if the board learns the truth about the pregnancy first, Roland loses the trust vote.”
Naomi narrowed her eyes.
“And if the board learns about Northstar?”
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Alistair went pale.
“Then neither of us keeps our seat.”
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