Page 26 of After the Chase

"Your mother's estate is substantial. The penthouse, of course, which is valued at approximately $2.3 million. Investment portfolios totaling $8.7 million. And then there are the business holdings."

"Business holdings?"

"Yes. Your mother inherited several properties and business interests from your father. She maintained them but never actively managed them. They've been generating passive income for years."

She slides a document across the desk. I scan it. Properties in Boston, New York, Miami. Shell companies. Investment funds. How the fuck did I not know about this when the asshole died?

As I scan the document, something grabs my attention. A line item labeled "Blackrose Holdings LLC — NYC Operations."

"What is this?" I ask, pointing.

Patricia hesitates. "That's a little complicated. Your father established that LLC a couple of years before he died. It's been maintained by a management company, but the details are somewhat opaque."

"Opaque how?"

"The company owns several properties in New York City. Warehouses, a bar, some residential buildings. The income is substantial but the source is…unclear."

She means illegal. I study the document more carefully and the properties are in outer boroughs, the kind of areas where legitimate businesses and criminal enterprises blur together.

"I want a full breakdown," I say. "Every property, every transaction, every connection."

"Mr. Bryson, I should warn you that some of these holdings may be involved in activities that may be unethical."

"I don't care what they're involved in. I want the information."

She nods slowly. "I'll have everything compiled and sent to you within the week."

"Good. What else?"

We spend another hour reviewing paperwork. By the end, I have a clear picture that my mother's death has made me substantially wealthier. The penthouse alone is worth millions, and the investment portfolios are well-managed and diverse.

But it's the NYC holdings that interest me. The opaque operations. The properties in areas known for organized crime.

I knew my father wasn't just a businessman, he was connected, but I’m intrigued to see how well connected.

And now those connections are mine.

That night, Chase and I are in a hotel room overlooking Boston Harbor. I'm reviewing the paperwork Patricia sent, making notes and planning.

Chase is watching me from the bed, his journal open on his lap.

"You're really not upset about your mother," he observes.

"Can you stop with that?"

"Fine, but can you tell me what you’re thinking?"

I consider the question. "I want to know about these businesses.”

"You think it was criminal?"

"I know it was criminal. Legitimate businesses don't need that level of cover."

Chase sets his journal aside and comes to sit beside me. "Does that bother you?"

"What do you think?"

"Fair enough. Any ideas what they could be linked to?"