The name “Croft” seared itself into my mind. Silas Croft. Arthur’s current “fixer,” the man methodically scrubbing decades of Kincaid Global’s history. This was his predecessor. The connection was undeniable, chilling. The company’s very foundation was built on the shadow network Arthur had cultivated.
My mother’s letter was not just a confession. It was an origin story for the corporate underworld I had only just glimpsed.
The phone rang, jarring me. It was an unknown number. Hesitantly, I answered.
“Ms. Kincaid? My name is Maya Sharma. I’m an investigative journalist with *The Financial Lens*.” Her voice was sharp, professional.
My grip tightened on the letter. “How did you get my number?”
“My sources are… resourceful,” she said. “I’ve been investigating Kincaid Global for an unrelated piece, specifically your company’s aggressive expansion tactics in the late 80s. There’s a pattern of mysterious rival acquisitions that abruptly cleared Kincaid’s path into new markets. One particular case, a family-owned agricultural supply company, just vanished overnight around 1988.”
My blood ran cold. 1988. Just a few years after Beatrice’s letter was written. The “Croft” mentioned in the letter, the man who handled “intimidating local competitors,” had apparently continued his work, or someone like him had.
“I have reason to believe this isn’t just good business strategy, Ms. Kincaid,” Maya continued, her voice growing more intense. “It feels like a systemic use of… let’s call them ‘off-the-books’ methods to remove obstacles.”
She was circling the same truth Beatrice had revealed, from an entirely different angle. The shadowy network Arthur had established to save the company had become its operational strategy. This journalist, unknowingly, was tracing the very threads spun by my father decades ago.
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