Chapter 6
Paul Rourke arrived that night.
Not because I invited him.
Because once Kevin’s money stopped, loyalty became curious.
He came through the back entrance of the main Morgan house wearing the same expensive coat he wore when I removed him four years ago.
“Claire.”
“Paul.”
He glanced around.
“Where’s Richard?”
“Not relevant.”
His face changed.
Good.
Old men like Rourke always thought women at family tables meant the real meeting had not begun yet.
I placed the black card on the table.
“Kevin funded you.”
He shrugged.
“Kevin invested in Morgan.”
“What were you building?”
“A safeguard.”
Same word.
Different traitor.
“Against what?”
He smiled.
“You.”
At least he was honest.
Rourke explained.
He and Kevin believed I had too much influence over the family accounts.
Interesting.
They did know part of the truth.
Not that I formally controlled them.
Only that Richard kept approving less because “Claire was always questioning expenses.”
Kevin wanted a financial structure outside my reach.
Then once Richard retired, Kevin would take formal control.
I looked at him.
“Did Kevin tell you Mother gave me the accounts?”
Rourke stared.
No.
Perfect.
“He didn’t know,” I said.
Rourke looked genuinely amused.
Then realized I was not joking.
His smile disappeared.
“You’re telling me Evelyn Morgan gave a twenty-three-year-old woman—”
I leaned forward.
“Finish that sentence carefully.”
He stopped.
Good survival instinct.
I continued.
“Mother gave control to the person who actually understood the accounts.”
Rourke looked toward Anthony.
Anthony nodded.
The old capo’s face changed.
Years of assumptions collapsing in seconds.
“What did you intend to do after Richard retired?”
Rourke said nothing.
I waited.
Eventually:
“Rebuild the old council.”
Of course.
Six seats.
Kevin at the head.
Richard as symbolic elder.
No seat for me.
But my money beneath all of it.
I almost laughed.
“Did you plan to ask?”
Rourke looked confused.
Ask.
The word apparently did not belong in his version of family.
That told me enough.
Then he said something useful.
“Kevin wasn’t the one who found the black card.”
I went still.
“Who did?”
Rourke smiled faintly.
“Your father.”
May you like
I looked toward the hall.
Richard had lied again.
