Chapter 4 - The Vote Before the PartyMercer Holdings occupied a black-glass tower on Park Avenue.
Naomi had entered it hundreds of times as Roland’s wife.
On Friday morning, she returned as something else entirely.
Not family.
Not former family.
A shareholder representative.
Asterline Compliance held no Mercer equity, but Naomi personally owned a small block of shares acquired years earlier through an investment account.
Less than two percent.
Normally meaningless.
Today it gave her the right to attend the special shareholder briefing immediately following the board session.
Roland saw her the moment she entered.
His expression froze.
He recovered quickly.
“Naomi.”
“Roland.”
He approached in a charcoal suit, expensive watch visible beneath his cuff.
He looked exactly as he had during their marriage when he wanted the world to believe he controlled every variable.
“I didn’t expect you.”
“That’s becoming a theme.”
His mouth tightened.
“Camille told me she invited you.”
“She did.”
“I hope you’ll behave like an adult.”
Naomi almost laughed.
“You’re concerned about my behavior?”
“This weekend is important to us.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Roland leaned closer.
“Whatever bitterness you still have about our marriage—”
“Don’t.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t what?”
“Use the word bitterness because it makes you feel innocent.”
For a moment, his confidence cracked.
Then the boardroom doors opened.
Alistair emerged.
The brothers looked at each other.
Something sharp passed between them.
Roland said, “We’re not finished.”
Naomi stepped aside.
“I think you’ve been finished for a long time.”
The shareholder briefing began twenty minutes later.
Roland stood before a wall-sized screen and presented the sale of Mercer Urban Development to Halcyon Ridge Capital.
Four hundred twenty million dollars.
“Strategically transformative,” he called it.
“An opportunity to unlock trapped value.”
Naomi listened.
Every sentence sounded polished.
Every number sounded prepared.
And every instinct she possessed screamed that something was wrong.
When questions began, she raised her hand.
Roland’s jaw shifted.
The investor-relations director called on her.
“Ms. Ellis.”
Naomi stood.
“Has Mercer disclosed all related-party relationships between Halcyon Ridge, Northstar Advisory, and any current or former Mercer officers?”
Silence.
Roland’s face changed almost imperceptibly.
“Those are separate entities.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
A board member turned toward him.
Roland replied, “To my knowledge, there are no undisclosed material relationships.”
Naomi held his gaze.
“To your knowledge?”
“Yes.”
She sat.
Alistair looked sick.
After the meeting, Roland cornered her near the private elevators.
“What are you doing?”
“Attending a shareholder briefing.”
“Do not play games with me.”
“I learned that from you.”
He lowered his voice.
“Did Alistair contact you?”
Naomi said nothing.
Roland understood.
His face hardened.
“You have no idea what he is.”
“I know what he did.”
“You think he’s helping you?”
“I think everyone in your family believes information is a weapon.”
Roland stared.
“And you don’t?”
Naomi looked at him.
“No. Information is evidence. What people do with it makes it a weapon.”
The elevator opened.
She stepped inside.
Roland caught the door.
“Stay away from Camille.”
Naomi looked at his hand.
“Move.”
“She’s pregnant.”
Naomi almost pitied him.
Almost.
“Congratulations.”
His eyes flashed.
“You always hated that she could give me what you couldn’t.”
The words struck exactly where he intended.
For one second Naomi was back in a fertility clinic bathroom, crying silently while Camille waited outside and Roland answered emails.
Then she looked at him.
“Roland, do you remember Dr. Chen’s office?”
His expression changed.
He released the elevator door.
“What?”
“The third test.”
Color drained slightly from his face.
Naomi pressed the lobby button.
“Have a nice afternoon.”
The doors closed.
Beatrix waited in the car downstairs.
“You poked him.”
“I reminded him.”
“Different?”
“Yes.”
Beatrix handed her a tablet.
“The board approved the Halcyon sale conditionally.”
Naomi read.
“Conditionally?”
“Final execution requires certification that no material related-party conflict was omitted.”
Naomi looked up.
“So if Northstar and Halcyon are connected—”
“The deal freezes.”
Naomi’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Ms. Ellis?”
A woman’s voice.
“Yes.”
“My name is Evelyn Hart. I used to work for Camille Brooks.”
Naomi’s pulse slowed.
“In what capacity?”
“Personal assistant.”
“When?”
“Until three months ago.”
“What do you want?”
“To make sure you don’t open that gift at the baby shower.”
Naomi exchanged a look with Beatrix.
“What gift?”
“The one you’re bringing.”
Naomi’s hand tightened around the phone.
“How do you know about it?”
“Because Camille knows you’re bringing something.”
Naomi went cold.
“I haven’t told anyone except my attorney.”
Beatrix’s expression sharpened.
Evelyn continued.
“She has someone watching your building.”
Naomi looked out the car window instinctively.
People moved along the sidewalk.
Nothing obvious.
“What exactly does Camille think is inside?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Then why does she care?”
“Because she thinks you have documents.”
Naomi said nothing.
“Ms. Ellis, I worked for her long enough to know how she reacts when she loses control.”
“What did she ask you to do?”
Silence.
Then Evelyn said, “Follow you. Photograph visitors. Copy anything I could.”
“Did you?”
“At first.”
Beatrix quietly began writing.
Naomi asked, “Why call me now?”
“Because she stopped paying me.”
“That’s your reason?”
“No.”
Evelyn’s voice softened.
“Because I saw what she did to you.”
Naomi’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know she kept your old fertility calendar.”
The world seemed to stop.
“My what?”
“Screenshots from when she had access to your phone backups. Appointment dates. Procedure dates. Medication reminders.”
Naomi could barely speak.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are they?”
“On a private server.”
“Whose?”
“Northstar’s.”
Beatrix took the phone.
“This is attorney Beatrix Vaughn. Ms. Hart, do not delete anything. Do not send anything yet. I’m going to arrange independent counsel for you if you’re willing to cooperate.”
Evelyn’s voice shook.
“Yes.”
“Can you meet?”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
Another pause.
Then Evelyn whispered, “No.”
“Why?”
“Camille knows I called someone.”
Beatrix sat straighter.
“How?”
“I just got a text.”
Naomi felt her skin crawl.
“What does it say?”
Evelyn read aloud.
“You always were terrible at choosing sides.”
The call ended.
Naomi stared at the phone.
For the first time since receiving the invitation, her calm fractured.
“This isn’t revenge anymore.”
Beatrix nodded.
“No.”
Naomi looked toward Mercer Tower fading behind them.
“This is containment.”
Her phone buzzed again.
This time the message came from Camille.
A photograph.
Naomi’s penthouse entrance.
Taken from across the street.
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Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, bestie.
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