Chapter 3 - The House Blake Thought He Owned
Blake returned to the mansion shortly after midnight.
The security staff had changed.
Two unfamiliar guards stood beside the front doors, wearing dark suits and silver Alden pins.
“This is my residence,” Blake said.
One of the guards checked a tablet.
“The property is owned by Northstar Residential Holdings.”
“I am the registered occupant.”
“You are a temporary authorized resident.”
Blake laughed once.
“That is absurd.”
The guard held out an envelope.
“Your access has been restricted to the west guest suite until the completion of the internal investigation.”
Blake snatched the envelope.
“You cannot confine me to one room in my own house.”
“The order was issued by the property owner.”
“Who is the owner?”
The guard’s expression did not change.
“Rebecca Alden.”
Blake stopped breathing for a second.
The name had followed him all evening.
It appeared on the suspension notices.
It appeared in the hospital authorization records.
It appeared on the private security documents.
But Rebecca had never used it before.
Not once.
When Blake met her, she had introduced herself as Rebecca Hale, the widowed mother of a quiet little girl. She lived modestly, worked as an independent medical foundation consultant, and seemed almost uncomfortable around wealth.
Blake had believed she needed him.
That belief had been one of the things he loved most about her.
He had not married a woman who might challenge him.
He had married a woman he expected to control.
Now the name Alden stood between him and every door in the house.
Blake entered the west suite and immediately called Marissa.
She did not answer.
He called again.
On the fourth attempt, she picked up.
“Where are you?” he demanded.
“At my apartment.”
“You should be here.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to decide what to say tomorrow.”
“We?”
“You were involved.”
Marissa’s voice became cautious.
“Involved in what?”
“You took the medicine.”
“No, Blake. You handed me the container and told me to keep it.”
“You opened it.”
“You said it was a vitamin injection.”
Blake tightened his grip on the phone.
“You knew exactly what it was.”
“I knew after Rebecca came downstairs screaming about her daughter.”
“She did not scream.”
The detail escaped him before he could stop it.
Rebecca had never screamed.
She had spoken quietly, almost gently, while destroying his control over eleven clinics.
Marissa exhaled.
“What does Alden mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must know something.”
“I knew she had a family trust.”
“You said it was small.”
“That is what she told me.”
Marissa was silent for several seconds.
“Blake, Northstar’s attorney contacted me.”
“Why?”
“They want me at the board meeting.”
“You work for me.”
“I work for Whitmore Distribution, and Whitmore Distribution is controlled by Northstar.”
“You are not going to that meeting without me.”
“I may not have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
Marissa ended the call.
Blake stared at the screen.
He opened the envelope from security.
Inside was a temporary residency notice and a list of suspended privileges. He could not access the garage, study, office wing, wine cellar, or electronic files.
At the bottom of the page was a signature.
Rebecca A. Hale
Acting Beneficiary Representative
Northstar Trust
Alden Medical Group
Blake read it three times.
She had signed with the name Hale, but the authority came from Alden.
He opened his laptop and searched the private corporate database.
Most records associated with the Alden family were sealed, but public archives revealed the outline of an old empire.
Gideon Alden had founded Alden Medical Group forty-one years earlier. The company had developed medicines, hospital systems, and emergency supply programs across the country.
Eighteen years ago, Gideon died in a private plane crash.
His wife had died several years before him.
Their only child had disappeared from public records shortly after the crash.
There were no adult photographs of the daughter.
Only a name.
Rebecca Grace Alden.
Blake leaned back slowly.
The daughter would now be thirty-nine years old.
His wife was thirty-nine.
A cold sensation moved through his chest.
He searched for the value of Alden Medical Group.
The estimates varied between eight and twelve billion dollars.
Blake stood so quickly that the chair fell backward.
He had married the hidden heir to one of the largest private medical networks in the country.
And three hours earlier, he had threatened to withhold medicine from her child unless she cooked dinner for his mistress.
His phone rang.
The screen displayed an unknown number.
Blake answered.
A distorted voice spoke.
“You finally found her name.”
“Who is this?”
“You were supposed to make her use it. Nothing more.”
Blake moved toward the window.
“What are you talking about?”
“The medicine was never the objective.”
“Did you replace the dose?”
The caller ignored the question.
“Tomorrow, Rebecca will attend the board meeting. She will believe she is taking back control.”
Blake lowered his voice.
“What do you want from me?”
“Make sure she opens the Alden archive.”
“What archive?”
The line went silent.
“Who are you?”
The caller answered with one sentence.
May you like
“The person who gave you everything Rebecca is about to take away.”
Then the call ended.
