Dad’s jaw hardened. “I want to know why federal agents are standing in my foyer.”
The agent met his gaze without hesitation. “The warrant relates to financial activity connected to King Enterprises.”
A heavy silence followed. Then the agent’s attention shifted. “Mr. Lorne Hawthorne.”
Lorne froze, his face a wall of granite. His dark eyes moved between the agents, polished steel behind the calm expression he wore. “You are being detained in connection with a federal investigation involving financial misconduct tied to King Enterprises.”
Lorne laughed once, harsh and disbelieving. “This is absurd.” His voice rose as he stepped forward. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We’re not here to debate the evidence,” the agent replied calmly. “You’ll have the opportunity to address it with counsel.”
“Who filed this?” Lorne demanded. “Who’s been digging through my accounts and fabricating evidence?”
The agent didn’t react. “That information will be addressed through your legal counsel.”
Dad shifted slightly beside the staircase. “There’s clearly been a misunderstanding,” he began, the authority in his voice returning as he tried to reclaim control of the room. “Our attorneys will?—”
“This warrant has already been reviewed and approved.”
The interruption came quietly.
Something flickered across Lorne’s face that wasn’t anger. Panic.
My attention locked in immediately.
“You’re making a serious error,” he insisted. “You have no idea what kind of damage this?—”
“Mr. Whitaker.”
The agent’s interruption carried quiet finality. “You need to come with us.”
For several seconds, Lorne didn’t move. His gaze shifted toward Dad.
“Our legal team will need to review whatever documentation you believe justifies this,” Dad said, his tone cool and deliberate.
The agent acknowledged him with a brief nod. “You’re welcome to contact your legal counsel.”
His attention returned immediately to Lorne.
“This company has operated within the law for decades,” Lorne snapped. “If someone believes they can drag my name through the mud with fabricated accusations?—”
“Mr. Whitaker.” The agent cut him off. “You can address all of that with your attorney.”
Lorne’s eyes moved across the room in a slightly unhinged frenzy.
Dad had gone completely still beside the staircase. The tension in his jaw told me he understood something none of us had yet spoken aloud.
Mom hadn’t moved. Her hands rested lightly against the marble table, her expression composed enough that anyone who didn’t know her would assume this was simply another unpleasant meeting.
But I’d grown up watching her read rooms. She already understood the implications.
Drew hadn’t spoken once since I arrived. His attention moved carefully between Lorne, the agents, and our father—absorbing every shift in the room without revealing a single thought.
For the first time in my life, Dad looked smaller than the man who had built King Enterprises into the empire it was now.
The lead agent stepped forward. “Mr. Whitaker. It’s time.”
Lorne’s jaw hardened. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his dark eyes. I had seen that look before. He was the kind of man who smiled while deciding who would bleed for him.