Eleanor Prescott sat in the secure debriefing room like a marble statue of aristocratic composure, but her hands trembled as she reviewed the intelligence we'd extracted from Sebastian's last words. Three hours had passed since my uncle's death at the Jefferson Memorial, and each piece of evidence we'd uncovered painted a more disturbing picture of Phoenix Legacy's infiltration of our family.
"The Meridian Group," Eleanor said finally, her voice carrying the weight of secrets she'd protected for thirty years. "Arthur's early investors, the ones who provided capital for international expansion during the 1990s recession."
Sterling leaned forward, his expression shifting from confusion to growing alarm. "Mother, what about the Meridian Group?"
"They weren't legitimate investors." Eleanor'
