“I understand.”
“Then leave.”
Samuel looked toward the screen.
For one second, his eyes stopped on Marcus Vale.
Marcus noticed.
So did Ethan.
Samuel picked up his toolbox.
Then, before leaving, he said quietly:
“If you're selling the patents today, don't sign anything before you check Archive Room Seven.”
The room became silent.
Charles stared at him.
“What did you say?”
Samuel opened the door.
“Archive Room Seven.”
Then he walked out.
Charles turned to Ethan.
“Who was that?”
Ethan looked toward the closed door.
“I don't know.”
Marcus Vale shifted slightly in his chair.
It was almost invisible.
But Ethan saw it.
For the first time that morning, the investor looked nervous.
Ten minutes later, Ethan ended the meeting.
“Thirty-minute recess.”
Charles stared at him.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am.”
“Because a maintenance worker said something?”
Ethan looked toward Marcus.
“Yes.”
He walked out.
Samuel Boyd was in a service corridor replacing a panel when Ethan found him.
“Mr. Boyd?”
Samuel turned.
“You know my name.”
“I checked.”
Samuel smiled.
“Most people don't.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What is Archive Room Seven?”
Samuel closed the panel.
“Something your father told me never to talk about.”
Ethan froze.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“You knew Richard Harrison?”
Samuel looked down at his toolbox.
“I worked for him.”
“As maintenance?”
Samuel shook his head.
“No.”
“What did you do?”
Samuel looked directly at Ethan.
“I built the security systems that protected this company.”
Ethan stared.
“You were an engineer?”
“Once.”
“Why are you working maintenance?”
Samuel gave a tired smile.
“Because your father made sure no one would hire me as an engineer again.”
ARCHIVE ROOM SEVEN
Archive Room Seven was not listed on any floor plan Ethan had ever seen.
Samuel led him into the lower levels of Harrison Global Tower.
They passed server rooms, storage areas, maintenance corridors, and concrete passageways that looked nothing like the marble lobby above.
At the end of one corridor stood an old steel door.
No sign.
No keypad.
Only a mechanical lock.
Samuel removed an old brass key from his pocket.
Ethan looked at him.
“You've had that for seventeen years?”
“Twenty-three.”
The door opened.
Inside was a narrow room filled with dust-covered filing cabinets.
Ethan stepped inside.
“What is this?”
“Your father's insurance policy.”
Samuel opened the first cabinet.
Inside were contracts.
Ownership agreements.
Patent transfers.
Private correspondence.
Ethan picked up one folder.
“Why isn't any of this digitized?”
“Because Richard Harrison didn't want it searchable.”
Ethan turned.
“What exactly am I looking for?”
Samuel pointed to a red folder.
“Vale Capital.”
Ethan opened it.
His face changed.
Inside was a twenty-year-old agreement between Richard Harrison and a company called Vale Strategic Holdings.
One signature belonged to Richard.
The other belonged to a man named Adrian Vale.
Marcus Vale's father.