From his pocket he pulled out the photo—a faded picture of a young woman standing beside a tall man in an expensive suit.
“The letter says his name is William Harrington,” Noah said. “It says he was my father.”
A wave of whispers spread through the lobby.
“William Harrington?”
“That can’t be right…”
“He died years ago!”
Everyone knew the name. William Harrington had been the younger brother of the company’s CEO and heir to a fortune worth hundreds of millions.
But he had died in a car accident fifteen years earlier.
And as far as the public knew, he had never had children.
Daniel pressed his radio, his voice suddenly tense.
“Mr. Harrington, we need you in the lobby immediately. This involves your brother.”
The reply crackled back with irritation.
“I’m in the middle of a board meeting, Daniel.”
“I understand, sir. But you’ll want to see this.”
A long pause followed.
Then: “I’m coming.”
Thirty seconds later, the private elevator opened.
Charles Harrington stepped out.
Tall, confident, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he carried himself like a man used to power. The crowd parted instinctively as he approached.
“What’s so urgent?” he asked coldly.
Daniel handed him the letter.