Chapter 6 - The War for Drummond Global
By midnight, the Drummond mansion was no longer a quiet, sterile tomb of marble and glass. It had become the headquarters of a war.
In the upper guest wing, Margaret Drummond lay resting in a state-of-the-art medical bed, attended by two private nurses hired at astronomical expense. Sophia was fast asleep in a massive canopy bed down the hall, wrapped in silk sheets, her tangled hair washed and brushed, a stuffed bear tucked under her arm. In the nursery next door, the newborn baby boy—whom Margaret had named Julian Jr.—was sleeping peacefully after a full bottle of formula.
Downstairs, in the grand mahogany library, Edward sat behind his father’s old desk.
Standing across from him were three men: Jonathan Vance, the chief legal counsel for Drummond Global; Mark Sterling, the head of private security; and Detective Thomas Callahan of the Boston Police Department, a personal friend of Edward’s for twenty years.
Victoria sat in an armchair by the cold fireplace, surrounded by two security guards. She had spent six hours raging, crying, and bargaining, but now she sat silent, her eyes red-rimmed, her face pale and sunken.
"Let me get this straight, Edward," Detective Callahan said, rubbing his chin as he looked over the documents on the desk. "You have DNA proof that the infant is Julian's son. You have testimony from the girl that she found the baby in a trash bag on your property. And you have a signed confession from the clinic technician who admits Victoria paid him fifty thousand dollars to hand over the baby."
"Fifty thousand dollars," Edward repeated, his voice cold as liquid nitrogen. "She bought my nephew's son for fifty thousand dollars and hired a thug to dump him like offal."
"I didn't tell him to dump him in the trash!" Victoria shrieked, her voice raspy from hours of screaming. "I told him to leave the baby at a hospital in New York! He lied to me! He took the money and panicked!"
"It doesn't matter, Victoria," Jonathan Vance, the lawyer, said grimly. "Under Massachusetts law, you are an accessory to kidnapping, child abandonment, and attempted murder of an infant. The board of directors will convene an emergency session at eight tomorrow morning."
"You can't ruin me, Edward!" Victoria stood up, pointing a trembling finger at her brother. "If you take this to the board, if you put me in prison, the Drummond name will be dragged through the gutter! The market will react violently! You'll lose hundreds of millions of dollars!"
Edward looked at his sister with a pity so profound it cut deeper than anger.
"You still think this is about money," Edward said quietly. "You spent fifty years thinking our father's empire was the only thing that mattered. Look at you, Victoria. You’re willing to murder an infant and leave an old woman to rot in a charity ward just to keep a seat at a board table."
"It's my table!" she roared. "I earned it! I stayed while Julian ran away! I worked while you sat in your office staring at spreadsheets! I am a Drummond!"
"No," Edward said, standing up slowly. "You are just Richard Drummond’s shadow. And shadows vanish when the light comes."
Edward turned to Detective Callahan. "Take her into custody, Tom. File the charges."
"Edward! No! Please!" Victoria lunged forward, but Mark Sterling and the security guards caught her arms, holding her back. "Edward! We're blood! You can't do this to your own sister!"
"You forgot one thing, Victoria," Edward said, his eyes hard as flint as the police officers cuffed her wrists behind her back. "Margaret is my sister, too. And so was Julian. You buried them both. Now, it's your turn."
As the officers dragged a screaming, sobbing Victoria out through the grand double doors of the mansion, the heavy iron gates slammed shut behind them, echoing through the night air.
Edward walked over to the tall floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the misty grounds of Back Bay. The sky in the east was just beginning to turn a pale, dusty violet. Dawn was coming.
Behind him, Mrs. Martinez entered the room quietly, carrying a tray with two fresh cups of coffee.
"She’s gone, then?" Lucia asked softly.
"She's gone," Edward replied, taking a cup.
"What happens now, Mr. Drummond?"
May you like
Edward took a sip of the hot black coffee, feeling the heat spread through his chest. He thought of the little girl sleeping upstairs with her stuffed bear. He thought of his white-haired sister resting in the guest room. He thought of the icy blue eyes of the baby sleeping in the nursery.
"Now," Edward said, a faint, unfamiliar smile touching his lips, "we rebuild."
