Chapter 3
The Frantic Phone Call From A Panicked Brother
“Are you out of your mind?!” Dylan’s voice exploded through the car’s speakers before Carter could even say hello. The audio was slightly muffled, as if Dylan was hiding in a closet or a bathroom, speaking in a frantic, hushed yell.
“Merry Christmas, Dylan,” Carter replied, keeping his voice deadpan and low. “I take it Dad enjoyed the birthday card?”
“He completely lost it, Carter!” Dylan hissed, the panic evident in his rushed breathing. “The second you walked out the door, he stared at that paper like he had seen a ghost. Then he just snapped. He threw his bourbon glass straight at the fireplace. Shattered crystal everywhere. Mom started screaming, Aunt Beatrice actually fainted, and Dad just shoved past everyone and locked himself in his study. What the hell did you give him?”
Shelby leaned closer to the dashboard microphone. “Is your mother okay, Dylan? Did he hurt anyone?”
“No, no, he didn't touch anyone,” Dylan stammered. “But the house is in total chaos. Mom is crying in the kitchen, the relatives are packing their coats, and Dad is screaming into his phone in the study. I walked past the door and I could hear him yelling at his fixers. Carter, seriously, man to man, what was in that envelope?”
Carter merged the car onto the interstate, the tires crunching over the fresh layer of snow. “A reminder of where he came from, Dylan. And a promise of where he’s going. Did you keep recording?”
“I got the whole thing,” Dylan admitted, his tone shifting slightly from panicked to conspiratorial. “The toast, the insult, you dropping the envelope, and him losing his mind. It’s gold, Carter. Absolute gold. But you have to tell me what’s going on. If you’re making a move on the company, I need to know. I’m next in line for Chief Operating Officer. If you blow up the stock price, you blow up my future.”
“Your future was built on stolen money,” Carter stated coldly. “Everything he has, he stole from us. From Grandpa’s trust. I found the documents, Dylan. The original wire transfers from 1996. He took our inheritance to fund Millard Enterprises.”
Dead silence filled the car speakers. The only sound was the rhythmic hum of the tires and the swish of the wipers. For ten long seconds, Dylan said absolutely nothing.
“Dylan?” Shelby prompted.
“He stole the trust?” Dylan finally whispered, his voice stripped of its usual arrogant sheen. “The trust Grandpa left for us? The one Dad said was wiped out in the dot-com crash?”
“Every penny,” Carter confirmed. “He forged the signatures and transferred the funds to a shell corporation, which then seeded Millard Enterprises. We are the rightful majority shareholders of the company, Dylan. Not him. On Monday morning, my lawyers are filing an injunction to freeze his assets and strip him of his voting rights based on criminal fraud.”
“Oh my god,” Dylan breathed out. “Carter, he is going to annihilate you. He has judges in his pocket. He has the best corporate defense attorneys in the country on retainer. You can’t just walk in and take the company with a twenty-five-year-old bank receipt.”
“Watch me,” Carter said firmly.
“You need me,” Dylan said suddenly, his mind clearly racing to calculate the new odds. “Carter, you need someone on the inside. He’s going to spend the next forty-eight hours shredding documents and burning hard drives. I can get into his office. I have his security codes. I can pull the server backups before his IT guys wipe them.”
Shelby shook her head vehemently at Carter, silently warning him not to trust his brother. Carter tightened his grip on the wheel.
“I don’t need you to play spy, Dylan. I just need you to stay out of my way.”
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“No, listen to me!” Dylan urged, his voice desperate. “I’m sitting on the video of a lifetime. If Dad tries to spin this to the board and claim you’re just an unstable, disgruntled son, I can drop this video to the press. It shows him acting like a tyrant and you acting like a saint. It destroys his character. But we have to be partners in this, Carter. 50/50 split of the recovered shares.”
“I’m not negotiating with you while you’re hiding in a bathroom,” Carter said flatly. “Take care of Mom. And don't do anything stupid.” He reached forward and tapped the screen, cutting the connection. The car returned to its heavy, loaded silence.
