Noah's Quest - 17. Paging Miss Fortune

“What are you doing here?” I asked, staring at Tristan in complete disbelief.

As a ghost, you’d figure he could have just walked right through the solid steel walls.

Tristan looked up at me, a cold, intense flame flickering behind his spectral eyes. “I got tricked into coming into this room, and then that damn heavy door slammed shut behind me,” he said in a monotone voice. “Here I sat ever since.”

“Why couldn’t you just teleport?” I asked, unable to wrap my head around a ghost being trapped.

At that moment, Grandma walked into the vault, stopped in her tracks, and checked her phone. She looked around the room and uttered a single word: “Lead.”

“So this was more than just a panic room,” I said, surveying the windowless steel enclosure.

Grandma nodded slowly, running a manicured hand over the wall. “If these walls could talk...”

“You wouldn’t like a single word they had to say,” Tristan interjected quietly.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Grandma replied. She paused, glancing toward the open door to ensure we were alone, before asking, “What did you learn in here, Tristan?”

Tristan launched into a chilling account of the crimes, assaults, and blackmails that had taken place inside the room. He also revealed the details of Jack’s hidden video surveillance system—including a master kill switch designed to fry every hard drive if disconnected improperly.

Satisfied that the authorities and Black Hawk had the room under control, Grandma sent me home.

School was starting in a week, and I wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to read ahead for my freshman classes. When the driver finally pulled up our long driveway, I noticed Chase’s Jeep parked next to Brody’s.

“Chase?” I called out, pushing the front door open.

“In the kitchen!” his voice called back.

I walked in to find Chase, Brody, and Uncle Matt sitting around the kitchen island. The second Chase saw me, he stood up and pulled me into a deep, warm hug. I melted into his chest, wanting nothing more than to stay anchored right there forever.

“Did you miss me?” Chase whispered, pulling back slightly with a lazy, devastating smirk.

“Yeah,” I murmured, stepping back with a smile. “I really did.”

I filled them in on what little I had learned at the penthouse. While Chase and Brody chatted about work, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my inbox. An email from Grace had just come through:

From: Grace Watkins

To: Noah Jacobs

Subject: Foundation Updates

Noah,

I wanted to provide a few quick updates:

Property Maintenance: The quarterly inspections are being scheduled, and all tenants will receive proper advance notice.

San Diego Project: The build-out of the new apartments is progressing nicely. Ted walked the property with me the other day and offered the designer a few brilliant tweaks to the amenities. Inquiry volume is already through the roof.

Scholarship Fund: The board is reporting a record number of applicants this cycle. I spoke with the board president to ensure we are strictly adhering to our selection guidelines.

Trevor Foundation Charity Gala: The board has selected you to be this year’s guest keynote speaker. I have confirmed our corporate sponsorship, but I am deferring to you on whether you wish to take the stage.

Talk soon,

Grace

Having Grace onboard as the foundation’s legal counsel was easily one of the best decisions I had ever made.

A little later, I wandered outside and sat by the edge of the pool, staring into the rippling blue water. My mind was racing. Why was Jack so obsessively fascinated with me? What was college going to be like? Should I actually stand up in front of hundreds of people and speak at the gala?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Grandpa’s voice broke the silence. He was standing right behind me.

“Hey, Grandpa,” I sighed, staring down at the water. “Just thinking about life.”

“Ah, a short trip then,” he teased with a gentle chuckle.

“Something like that.”

“What’s really on your mind, Noah?”

I laid it all out for him—finding Tristan trapped in the vault, Grace’s email, and the strange, hollow ache I felt whenever Chase wasn't around.

We sat in quiet comfort for a few moments before Grandpa broke the silence. “Noah, you’re growing up, and you’re falling in love. Chase has been wonderful for you—infinitely better than Shiloh ever was in that brief window. Love is a complicated emotion, and navigating its twists and turns will make you second-guess yourself. But trust me: it is painfully obvious to everyone in this family how naturally you and Chase click.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” I said, my voice cracking slightly.

He sat down beside me on the concrete edge and pulled me into a firm side-hug.

“Nate? Are you out here?” Grandma called, stepping out through the patio doors.

“Yeah, honey. Just having a heart-to-heart with our boy,” Grandpa replied.

Grandma walked over, taking in the scene with a soft smile. “Well, the penthouse was an absolute goldmine—if you’ll pardon the pun,” she said with a chuckle. “The amount of video surveillance evidence we recovered is staggering. Locking Tristan in that vault was the absolute dumbest move Jack ever made.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Because while Tristan couldn’t leave, he could still hear every single word spoken in that condo—and Jack never realized it. Tristan gave us names, dates, and locations. We’ve already verified most of it through the hard drives. But that’s not even the most interesting part.”

“What is it?” I asked, watching her debate how much to reveal.

“It turns out Jack had a secret half-brother,” Grandma said. “A man named Preston.”

“...Parker’s dad?” I gasped out, my stomach turning. “God, that entire family is scumbags.”

“The one and only,” Grandma confirmed. “The IRS, the FBI, and half a dozen federal agencies are freezing their assets as we speak based on what was in those files.”

A massive grin spread across my face. “So... their wealth is entirely fake?”

Grandma gave me a stern look. “Noah, it is not good form to take joy in someone else’s misfortune.”

“I’d say they missed a fortune,” I shot back.

I broke into a sudden fit of giggles, and after a second, Grandma and Grandpa couldn't hold back their own laughter either. I was definitely spending too much time around Little B.

I headed back inside and found Chase lounging on the living room sofa, patiently reading a picture book with Little B.

Guess I spoke him into existence, I thought to myself, warmth spreading through my chest. Little B looked up over the top of the book and flashed me a sweet, innocent smile.

Brody walked into the room from the back hallway. “Matt is in the study talking with Damian and Dominic. He said we should order pizza.”

“That boy always has food on his mind,” Grandma laughed, walking in behind me.

While we waited for the delivery, I talked through the gala invitation with Grandma. She strongly encouraged me to accept the speaking engagement.

“Matt has been asked to speak at that event three years in a row, and frankly, I am tired of listening to his recycled stories,” Grandma said. Grandpa snickered from the doorway.

“Have any of my other uncles spoken there?” I asked.

“Just Ted,” Grandma smirked. “He’d probably be the best person to consult for advice on what topics to cover.”

When the pizza arrived, Brody grabbed two whole boxes and marched them straight into the office for Uncle Matt and the twins. Little B sat up at the kitchen island with marinara sauce smeared across his chin. He might have been eight years old, but he definitely knew how to wear his food.

Later that evening, I made up my mind to speak at the gala. I called Uncle Ted, and he gave me some phenomenal advice on how to structure the speech and connect with the donors.

Two months into my freshman year, we boarded the family private jet and flew up to New York City.

I was still working through my body image issues with my therapist, Kellan, and wasn't fully comfortable wearing slim-fitted clothes just yet, but at least I was no longer completely swimming in my shirts. Kellan kept reminding me that recovery takes time and that real progress doesn't happen overnight.

In New York, we stayed in the family tower on the East Side, where our trust owned several private residences. We took the penthouse suite, and the floor-to-ceiling skyline views were breathtaking. A huge portion of the family had flown in for the event, along with Grace. I had offered her a room in our penthouse, but she politely declined, preferring her usual boutique hotel.

Before heading down, I stood in the bedroom watching Chase finish his tuxedo. He looked impossibly handsome as he adjusted his black bowtie in the mirror.

I stepped up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and leaned in to whisper in his ear: “The things I want to do to you right now...”

Chase let out a deep laugh, turning in my arms to kiss me softly. “Promises, promises.”

We made our way down to the grand lobby and took a car over to the Shepherd Tower—a historic skyscraper our family had owned for decades, which housed dozens of high-profile charitable organizations.

Flashbulbs popped in blinding bursts as we pulled up to the red carpet. Chase and I managed to slip past the press line unbothered; the photographers didn't recognize us, which suited me just fine.

Inside the massive, gilded ballroom, I spotted Grandma and Grandpa effortlessly holding court with the Mayor and the Governor. Grandma was entirely in her element, glowing under the crystal chandeliers.

I casually scanned the crowded room, taking in the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns—until my eyes locked onto two very familiar figures standing by the bar.

It was Shiloh and Parker.