Zeke's eyes narrowed, his earlier shock hardening into cold, analytical suspicion. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly.
"You maybe right, Jenny. But It just doesn't fit," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "I've dealt with underground organizations my entire life. Renowned ones. Cautious ones. They don't say names—not out loud, not in any language. They use codes, numbers, encrypted devices." He tilted his head, studying her pale face. "And security in a Black hideout—even one infiltrated by the Men in Black—would be airtight. You, a cleaner on an errand, just happened to be near a slightly ajar door during a whispered conversation in Hebrew that conveniently listed my board members?"
He stood up slowly, pacing a few steps before turning back to her. "It sounds less like a discovery and more like a story. A story meant to divert me, to make me look inward while the real threat moves elsewhere." He moved closer to the bed, his shadow falling over her. "So, I'll ask you one more time, and you will tell me the truth: What did you really hear? Or better yet—who really sent you?"
Jenny held his gaze, her own fear now layered with something else—frustration? Defiance? Her hands clenched the sheets. "You think I'm lying because the truth is too convenient? Or because it's too hard for you to accept that your own house is rotting from the inside?" She took a sharp breath, wincing again. "I didn't just hear names, Mr. Black. I saw a document. A single page, left out. The door wasn't just ajar—it was unlocked because the man inside was rushed, called away. He wasn't meant to leave it. But he did."
She paused, letting that sink in. "The names were handwritten in the margin next to amounts and dates. And at the bottom was a symbol—a snake coiled around a broken crown."
Zeke froze. The symbol was real. He'd seen it only once before, in his father's old files, marked on documents related to a long-ago betrayal.
Jenny's voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't understand what it meant then. But I memorized every name. And when they realized I might have seen it, the debt stopped being about money. It became about my life. And my sister's."
The room felt suddenly colder. Zeke's skepticism remained, but it was now threaded with a chilling new possibility. The symbol changed everything. It meant her story was impossibly true.
" Do you still remember their names" Zeke asked Jenny, "Yes I think I can recall"
Then Zeke quickly fetched a paper and pen and handed it to her " Write the people you recall", and then Jenny started to write.
When she was through ,Zeke took the paper from her, his eyes scanning the list Jenny had written. His expression, which had been a mask of controlled intensity, began to fracture with each name he read.
Lawman. Dick. Deris. Bean. Salt. Ram.
The names were not just employees or distant associates. They were pillars. Lawman was Laurence Mannfield, the family's corporate counsel for three decades. Dick was Richard "Dick" Barlow, head of security operations. Deris was Derek Isley, his uncle's most trusted financial strategist. Bean was Benita "Bean" Croft, the sharp-eyed CFO. Salt was Solomon Altman, the stoic head of mergers. Ram was Ramona Graves, the director of internal affairs.
Up to ten names in total, each one a trusted figure, each one a potential knife aimed at the heart of the Black empire.
Zeke's hand tightened on the paper, the edges crinkling in his grip. He looked from the list to Jenny, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she said, her gaze unwavering, her confidence absolute.
For a long moment, Zeke was silent. The hum of the hospital room faded away, replaced by a roaring in his ears—the sound of a foundation cracking. This wasn't just a security breach; it was a bloodline betrayal. These weren't just board members; some were family in all but name.
He slowly folded the paper and placed it in his inner pocket, the action final and grave.
"If this is true," he said, his voice chillingly calm, "then you haven't just given me information. You've given me a war." He stood, looking down at her, his earlier suspicion now transformed into a grim, focused respect. "Rest, Jenny. You've just become the most valuable person in this city. And the most hunted."
He turned and left the room, the list of names burning a hole in his chest, a blueprint for the purge to come.