Chapter 62
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
By six o’clock, I was officially tired of attorneys. I leaned back in my chair and loosened my tie. The conference room overlooking downtown Los Angeles looked exactly the same as it had seven hours earlier, but the people inside it did not.
Colton had abandoned his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves to his elbows, and Wyatt looked one inconvenience away from ordering tequila.
I wasn’t much better. The entire day had consisted of meetings, reviewing historical entities, government requests, compliance procedures, and dealing with questions.
Then, somehow, there were even more questions.
I rubbed my hand over my jaw. “I’ve reached my limit.”
Colton laughed. “You’ve been back one day.”
“It has felt significantly longer,” I answered. “Where’s Jonathan?” I glanced at my watch. “He should’ve been here twenty minutes ago.”
“Didn’t he say he was meeting with the U.S. Attorney’s Office?” Wyatt asked.
I nodded. “Right,” I exhaled. “Jesus, perhaps I am truly losing my mind? He did mention something about that and the court as well.”
Two weeks ago, the word court would have meant nothing to me, but now, it’d become a part of my daily vocabulary.
A knock sounded before the conference room door opened. It was my lead attorney, Jonathan, walking in with his briefcase.
Goddamn, he looked tired. This fucked-up situation was kicking everyone’s ass in one way or another.
I was shocked when he looked up at me and smiled, something he rarely did in legal meetings.
“I apologize for running late,” Jonathan said, setting his briefcase on the conference table and removing his glasses. “I’ve just come from the courthouse, and I have good news.”
I leaned back. “Go on.”
He nodded. “The United States Attorney’s Office has formally advised us that you are no longer a subject of this investigation.”
The room fell into absolute silence as I continued to stare at him.
“What?” I finally asked him, needing him to repeat the words so I knew they were real.
Jonathan folded his hands. “The government is continuing its investigation into historical entities and any individuals who may be connected to them, but as of this afternoon, it has concluded there is insufficient evidence to support the belief that you knowingly participated in, concealed, or benefited from those structures.”
I stared at him in stunned silence as he went on.
“The restructuring records were significant. Every time you became aware of hidden entities, Mr. Hawk, you dismantled them,” he explained.
“The government reviewed your decisions over a fifteen-year period and concluded that your conduct is fundamentally inconsistent with knowingly participating in a concealment scheme.”
“They’re done with me?” A smile slowly appeared.
“Correct, Mr. Hawk,” he said, reaching into his briefcase and withdrawing a folder. “The United States Attorney’s Office has advised us that you are no longer a target of this investigation and that it does not intend to pursue criminal charges against you.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, as it pertains to this matter, you’re in the clear.”
“And free to live my life?” I asked him, needing this information to be crystal clear. “They’re not charging me?”
“No, Mr. Hawk, they’re not charging you,” he confirmed, “and yes, you’re free to live your life.”
My brothers and I stayed silent, and for several seconds I just looked at Jonathan. Jesus Christ. That meant no charges, no hearings, no trial, and no possibility of years disappearing behind concrete walls over this bullshit.
A quiet laugh escaped me as I looked out toward the skyline. Everything seemed lighter and more liberating than it had before this news.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wyatt said, leaning over and clapping me on the back. “It’s finally fucking over.”
Colton exhaled loudly, leaning against the table and dropping his face into his hands. He dragged them over his eyes, looked at me, and smiled. “Thank God,” he said.
I looked back at Jonathan. “When did they decide?”
“This afternoon.”
I frowned. “This afternoon?”
He nodded. “I spent most of the day in discussions with the Assistant United States Attorney. If it helps, their exact words were…” He looked down at his notes.
“…‘Mr. Hawk’s actions over an extended period of years demonstrate transparency, remediation, and repeated efforts to unwind problematic structures whenever discovered.’”
“Clients don’t often receive compliments from federal prosecutors,” Jonathan said. “Frankly, Mr. Hawk, they believe you’ve spent years cleaning up someone else’s mess.”
“That would be one way to put it,” I answered.
“Imagine if Mark hadn’t brought that information to us?” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, man, you could’ve been looking at years in prison for our father’s crimes.”
I looked at Jonathan. “What happens now?”
The attorney smiled. “You go and live your life.”
I stood, knowing there was one person I needed to visit before I could do just that.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” I said. “It’s been a long couple of weeks for you. Please take the rest of this week off unless there are emergency meetings.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand. “Congratulations, sir.”
“Thank you,” I nodded as he gathered his belongings and left the room.
“Where are you going?” Wyatt asked as I stood and pushed in my seat. “If you think you’re going for drinks without us, you’re out of your damn mind.”
I adjusted my cuffs. “I’m going to see Christian.”
Both my brothers stood.
“We’ll go with you,” Colton said.
“Relax. I’m not going there to fight the son of a bitch.
Let Jim and Spencer know what Jonathan said,” I told him, then looked at Wyatt.
“And make sure Sebastian and Mark are there tonight. I must express my endless gratitude to Mark for what he’s done.
He disappeared for how many years after he ran out on his wedding, only to show up with this bombshell. Who would’ve thought?”
“Well, if you were also forced into marriage by Margot Aster, you would’ve changed your whole identity just to escape,” Colton said with a laugh.
“I was just grateful when the wedding was canceled because I recall a lonely bridesmaid finding her way into my arms that night,” Wyatt answered with a laugh.
“Where has he been this whole time?” I asked. “It’s been something like four years, right?”
“I don’t know where he’s been the whole time, but recently, he’s been living in Mallorca,” Colton informed me.
I smiled. “Mallorca? What the hell has he been doing over there?”
“Living his best life, apparently,” Colton said with a laugh.
“No shit?”
“He said he bought an old stone villa overlooking the Mediterranean and spends half his time sailing around the islands,” Wyatt said. “Somehow, he stumbled into consulting work.”
“Consulting work?” I repeated.
“Yeah. Yacht marinas,” Wyatt said.
My lips tightened. “Yacht marinas?”
“As it turns out, Mark has a bizarre talent for spotting undervalued waterfront properties and for knowing exactly what wealthy yacht owners want,” Colton added. “He began working with investors to acquire marinas and private yacht clubs.”
I chuckled. “So you’re telling me Mark Aster accidentally became successful all on his own?”
“Papa Aster should be so proud,” Wyatt chuckled.
“That he found his wealth and way without the Aster family backing?” I laughed. “I would’ve loved to have been in the room for that reveal.”
“No more than us,” Wyatt said. “All right, we’ll get the guys together while you say your parting words to Christian.”
I nodded. “Make it the rooftop at Horizon,” I said. “Drinks are on me.”
“The least you can do for all of us after we busted our asses for you,” Colton said, standing and walking over. He clapped me on the shoulder before giving the back of my neck a quick squeeze. “Good to have you back for good, brother.”
Wyatt nodded and rose from his chair. “Same,” he said, pulling me into a brief one-armed embrace before stepping back.
“Don’t go soft on me,” I smirked at them. “I want updates on Crown Reserve first thing in the morning.”
“See you tonight, asshole,” Wyatt said, turning toward the doors and flipping me off from behind him.
I picked up my suit jacket and readjusted my tie. Just one more conversation before I could fully relax over drinks with a beautiful woman at my side.
I walked through the atrium of Jameston’s building after the lobby receptionist informed me that Christian was still in his office, though his father had been out of the country since last week.
I was sure the old man was somewhere on a yacht, schmoozing investors and convincing himself that he and his son had somehow managed to take down my company by exploiting my father’s bullshit.
I stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the young receptionist. She straightened immediately, and her eyes widened when they met mine.
“I was informed Christian Jameston is in his office,” I said.
“Yes,” she answered. “Allow me to—”
“I’ll show myself in,” I interrupted, walking toward the double doors and shoving them open.
Christian glanced up from the desk where he’d been drinking a scotch while going through something on his laptop.
“Hawk?” he said, surprised. “I thought I told you to stay away from my building?”
“Yeah, I remember that,” I said, walking toward the bar in the corner of his office. “Well, my security saw fit to have your security allow me to enter the building.”
“What?”
“Your security couldn’t stop mine,” I stated directly. “And surprise… I’m here.”
“Surprise?” he said with disgust.
“Yeah, you know, that fun little game where something happens you’re not expecting? Hell, I’m very well aware of it, especially after federal agents arrested me. I definitely wasn’t expecting that.”
“Well, that’s—”
“A conversation for later? Sure,” I said, walking to the bar next to his desk. “But right now…” I reached for the bottle sitting beside the crystal decanter and held it up. I looked at the label, then looked at him. “Woodford Reserve?”
No response.