Michael shook his head.
"No."
Arthur looked at him.
"You remembered."
"Not enough."
He pointed toward the notebook.
"You built this place because of him."
Arthur nodded.
Then Michael noticed another entry.
One day, I hope my son understands that being poor is not the same as being worthless.
Michael couldn't breathe.
His father had written it years before Michael's worst days.
As if he had somehow known.
Michael closed the notebook.
Lily hugged him.
Arthur whispered:
"Your father knew."
"Knew what?"
"That one day you might need those words."
The investigation revealed Richard wasn't the mastermind.
He had been working for a company called Crestline Hospitality.
Crestline had been quietly purchasing hotels.
Their goal was to force Arthur into selling.
The Bellmont was worth hundreds of millions.
But Arthur refused.
Crestline needed him weakened.
The food theft was one part of the plan.
Financial manipulation was another.
Then they discovered the most shocking detail.
The company was controlled by Arthur's own nephew.
Victor Whitmore.
Arthur stared at the documents.
"Victor?"
Michael looked at him.
"Family?"
"My sister's son."
Arthur sat down.
"He asked me to sell three years ago."
"Why?"
"He said I was too old to run the company."
Arthur's voice became bitter.
"I refused."
Victor had been secretly acquiring shares.
Manipulating executives.
Creating losses.
Stealing food.
Creating legal liabilities.
He planned to make the Bellmont appear poorly managed.
Then buy it cheaply.
Michael shook his head.
"All this because you wouldn't sell?"
Arthur nodded.
"And because he believed you would never look closely."
Michael smiled.
"He didn't know you met me."
Arthur laughed.
"No."
"He definitely didn't know you remembered my father."
Arthur looked at Michael.
"Your father may have saved my life twice."
Michael frowned.
"Twice?"
Arthur nodded.
"The first time, he gave me bread."
"And the second?"
"He gave me a reason to keep going."
Victor arrived at the Bellmont the following morning.
He wore an expensive suit.
He smiled confidently.
"Uncle Arthur."
Arthur looked at him.
"Victor."
Victor glanced toward Michael.
"Who's this?"
Arthur smiled.
"James Carter's son."
Victor's expression changed for half a second.
Then disappeared.