My Husband Forced Me Out When His Father Struck Me at His 1864 Banquet — He Didn't Know I Secretly Owned Their Iron Dynasty
The revelation of Samuel Albright’s deathbed letter sent a cold dread through me, chilling me to the bone. It confirmed every suspicion, every dark whisper about Silas’s ruthlessness. I spent the night poring over it, the words of Clara’s father echoing in the silence.
The next morning, I delivered the letter to Tobias Wright. His calm demeanor faltered as he read, his eyes widening with each damning line.
“This,” he said, tapping the fragile paper, “is beyond mere fraud, Mrs. Endicott. This is the very foundation of his empire, built on sand and deceit.”
As we discussed our next moves, a junior clerk burst into Tobias’s office, his face pale, a telegram clutched in his hand. “Mr. Wright, urgent dispatch! Encrypted, just decrypted. From the European liaison office!”
Tobias took the telegram, his expression grim as he read the coded message aloud. It spoke of a high-value transaction, a “consignment of strategic assets,” negotiated through a British holding company.
“Silas Endicott,” Tobias deciphered, “is attempting to sell the Endicott Ironworks land and production rights. Not to Union interests, but to a shell corporation registered in Liverpool, known to have ties to Confederate financiers.”
My jaw tightened. “A Confederate front company,” I stated, the words tasting like poison. “He’s liquidating his assets, selling them to the enemy, to salvage his wealth before we can seize it.”
Tobias nodded, his eyes flashing with a rare, cold anger. “This isn’t just a panic sale, Mrs. Endicott. This is high treason. Selling critical wartime infrastructure, the sole supplier of heavy artillery to the Union Army, to our enemies.”
The sheer audacity, the depth of Silas’s depravity, left me stunned. He would rather betray his country, aid the very cause that was tearing the nation apart, than lose a single penny of his ill-gotten fortune.
“The telegram indicates the final papers are to be signed in London within the week,” Tobias said, his voice urgent. “He’s moving fast. We must act now, or the foundry will be gone, beyond our reach.”
The time for quiet investigations and careful legal maneuvers was over. Silas Endicott had escalated this war from a family dispute to a matter of national security. And I knew exactly who to call to meet that escalation.
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