Chapter 3 - Arthur’s Twelve Percent
Miriam Sloan arrived at Ethan and Emily’s house before sunrise.
Emily landed from Boston at 1:40 a.m. and spent the rest of the night sleeping beside Noah.
Ethan did not sleep at all.
By six, the kitchen table was covered with trust documents.
Miriam adjusted her glasses.
“Arthur created Noah’s trust six months before he died.”
“I know.”
“You know the broad terms.”
Ethan rubbed his face.
“Apparently that phrase is becoming dangerous.”
Miriam almost smiled.
Arthur’s trust held twelve percent of Mercer Table Brands.
Estimated value under the Halston offer:
$57.6 million.
Ethan stared at the number.
He knew Noah’s trust was valuable.
Seeing it reduced to one figure felt obscene.
“He’s two.”
“Yes.”
“Why twelve percent?”
Miriam looked at him.
“Your father had reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“Some are in a sealed memorandum.”
Ethan frowned.
“Sealed?”
“Not legally secret. Personal.”
“Who has it?”
“I do.”
“Can I read it?”
“As trustee, probably. But I’d like to review the estate instructions first.”
Emily entered carrying coffee.
Her face looked exhausted.
“What were Vivian and Claire trying to get Ethan to sign?”
Miriam examined the document Ethan had downloaded from his email.
The title:
Temporary Fiduciary Administrative Delegation.
She read silently.
Then her expression hardened.
“This is not something our office drafted.”
“We established that.”
“It appears to authorize Claire to act for you in administering trust-owned business interests while you are unavailable.”
“Voting?”
“The language is intentionally broad.”
“Would it work?”
“Likely not for extraordinary transactions without challenge. Arthur’s trust restricts delegation of dispositive decisions.”
“So it’s useless?”
“No.”
Miriam looked up.
“It could create enough apparent authority to cause chaos.”
A signed delegation might allow Claire to present herself to corporate counsel as authorized representative.
If combined with a written voting consent, closing lawyers might believe the trust approved the Halston deal.
Eventually it could be challenged.
But after a $480 million closing, unwinding everything would be extraordinarily difficult.
Emily stared.
“They were trying to get the sale through first and argue later.”
“That is one possibility.”
Ethan remembered Vivian’s sentence.
He doesn’t read anything when he’s traveling.
Shame burned.
She was partly right.
He often signed family-office documents quickly.
Convenience again.
“What happens now?”
Miriam answered:
“Do not sign anything. Revoke any existing delegation. Notify the company’s corporate counsel in writing that no one other than you and the independent trust adviser can authorize a vote.”
“Do it.”
“I will.”
Emily asked, “Why would Vivian abuse Noah over this?”
Miriam looked uncomfortable.
“I can’t answer that.”
Neither could Ethan.
Claire and Vivian wanted trust authority.
But making Noah crawl beneath a table did not create a legal advantage.
Unless the cruelty came from something else.
Resentment.
Control.
A belief that Noah needed to be broken because someday he would inherit more power than Claire wanted him to have.
Emily sat beside Ethan.
“How much has the trust spent since Arthur died?”
He frowned.
“Mostly nothing.”
“You’re sure?”
“Miriam?”
The attorney hesitated.
“The trust receives dividends.”
“How much?”
“Approximately $2.1 million since funding.”
Emily stared.
“And where is it?”
“Invested, less permitted expenses.”
“What expenses?”
Miriam opened the account.
Childcare support.
Property expenses.
Education planning.
Family security.
Household costs attributable to beneficiary care.
Ethan frowned.
“Noah is two. What education planning cost two hundred thousand dollars?”
Miriam became still.
“It shouldn’t.”
She scrolled.
A reimbursement:
Mercer House Childcare & Residential Support — $187,500.
Another:
Beneficiary Security Allocation — $96,000.
Another:
Specialized Developmental Consultation — $74,500.
Emily’s voice became quiet.
“What developmental consultation?”
Ethan shook his head.
“Noah has never seen a specialist through the trust.”
Miriam’s face drained of color.
“These reimbursements came through the family office.”
“Approved by who?”
She searched.
Submitted: Claire Mercer.
Reviewed: Vivian Mercer.
Trustee authorization: E. Mercer.
Ethan stared.
“I never approved this.”
Miriam looked closer.
Electronic authorization.
His credentials.
Emily turned toward him.
“Could they access your signature?”
“I don’t know.”
Then he did know.
Mercer family-office documents used a portal Ethan accessed on his phone.
Vivian’s assistant helped reset his password during a trip six months earlier.
Claire had repeatedly sent him links.
He had given nobody formal authority.
But he had been careless.
Miriam printed the ledger.
Questionable reimbursements over eighteen months:
$1,084,300.
Ethan stopped breathing.
“A million dollars?”
Emily looked at him.
“From Noah?”
Miriam corrected gently.
“From Noah’s trust.”
Ethan stood.
“Where did it go?”
“Mercer House received some.”
“Mom?”
“Possibly household accounts.”
“Claire?”
Miriam turned the screen.
Several reimbursements ultimately passed into a management company.
CJM Lifestyle Services LLC.
Emily asked, “What is that?”
Ethan already knew.
“Claire Jasmine Mercer.”
His sister’s initials.
Miriam looked at him.
“You know the company?”
“No.”
The three adults sat silently.
Upstairs Noah began crying.
Emily immediately stood.
Ethan followed.
Before he left the kitchen, Miriam said:
“Ethan.”
He turned.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The Halston sale would terminate certain dividend restrictions in Arthur’s trust.”
“What does that mean?”
“If the company sells, Noah’s trust receives cash.”
“Fifty-seven million.”
“Approximately.”
“And?”
“Cash is easier to move than restricted family-company stock.”
Ethan looked at the ledger again.
May you like
A million dollars had already moved while nobody was watching.
Suddenly the $480 million sale had a second meaning.
