The Billionaire’s Secret: What Was Hidden Behind the Broken Watch

Grant frowned, stepping forward. "Killed? Leah, what are you talking about? I’m here to help you."

"We don't want your help!" Leah hissed, looking over her shoulder at the glass doors of the lounge as if expecting someone to crash through them. "Scott didn't just get sick, Grant. He was murdered."

The words hung in the air like a heavy frost. Grant felt the world tilt on its axis. "What?"

"The garage didn't just fail," Leah said, her voice shaking violently as she squeezed Ethan's hand. "Scott found something inside a car he was servicing—a hidden compartment full of illegal bearer bonds and dark money tied to the Vance family. When he refused to hand them over without answers, they destroyed his life. They poisoned his credit, intimidated his suppliers, and then… he got sick out of nowhere. The doctors said it was organ failure, but I know what they did."

Grant’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. Richard Vance was one of the biggest real estate tycoons in Ohio—and coincidentally, one of Grant’s chief business rivals.

"They’ve been tracking us ever since," Leah continued, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. "They think Scott gave me the ledger containing the bond numbers before he died. If Vance’s men see you with us, they’ll think you’re involved."

"I am involved," Grant said, his voice dropping into a register of sheer, cold lethal calm. "Scott was my family. If Richard Vance touched him, I will tear his empire down brick by brick."

"You can't fight them!" Leah cried. "They have lawyers, politicians, and thugs on their payroll!"

"So do I," Grant said coolly. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed a number. "Marcus? Clear my schedule for the next month. I need security at the Grand Meridian immediately—my personal team. And get corporate intelligence on the line. We are going to war with Vance Capital."

Ethan looked up at Grant with wide, fearful eyes. "Are you going to hurt the bad men?"

Grant knelt down in front of the boy, forcing a soft, reassuring smile. "No, Ethan. I’m going to make sure the bad men can never hurt you or your mom ever again."

Before Leah could protest further, the lounge door opened, and a tall man in an expensive gray suit stepped inside, flanked by two burly men with hands hidden inside their jackets.

"Well, well," the man in the suit said, a slick, cruel smile spreading across his face. "I thought I recognized the little rat. And who do we have here? The great Grant Mercer, playing hero to white trash?"