Chapter 4
I stared at the document Daniel sent me.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
Arthur Bennett.
The same signature I had used on contracts for nearly thirty years.
Except I knew I had never signed that authorization.
I enlarged the image.
The handwriting looked convincing.
But one detail was wrong.
My middle initial was missing.
Whenever I signed major company documents, I used Arthur J. Bennett.
I had done it since founding the business.
This document simply said Arthur Bennett.
"Daniel," I said carefully, "I did not sign this."
He remained silent.
Then he asked, "Are you certain?"
"Absolutely."
I heard him exhale.
"Then we have a serious problem."
I looked toward the family photograph on my desk.
Jasmine stood beside me, smiling.
Maya stood on my other side.
My mother sat in front of us.
We looked like a happy family.
Now I wondered how many lies had been hidden behind those smiles.
"Do not accuse anyone yet," I told Daniel.
"We need a proper investigation."
"I agree."
I paused.
"Can you secure all the original records?"
"Yes."
"And notify our corporate attorney."
"I'll call her tonight."
Our company attorney was Rebecca Morgan.
She was experienced, direct, and careful with facts.
I trusted her because she never told me what I wanted to hear.
She told me what I needed to know.
The following morning, Rebecca met Daniel and me at the office.
I explained everything.
From my mother's laundry to Maya's revelation about the condo.
Rebecca listened without interruption.
When I finished, she folded her hands.
"Arthur, the family situation and the financial situation need to be handled separately."
I nodded.
"I understand."
"Your wife may have marital rights, even if the property was yours before marriage. You need domestic counsel before taking further housing action."
I took a breath.
"She's staying with her mother."
"Good. Keep communications civil and documented."
Then she turned toward Daniel.
"We need an independent forensic accountant."
He nodded.
"Already contacted one."
Rebecca continued.
"And we should preserve card records, emails, approvals, and vendor documents."
I leaned forward.
"What about the signature?"
"We'll determine whether it's authentic. Don't make public accusations before verification."
I nodded.
I was angry.
But anger would not protect my company.
Evidence would.
Three days later, I received another unexpected call.
It was from the property manager of the downtown condo.
He introduced himself as Marcus Reed.
"Mr. Bennett, I'm calling regarding the apartment at Harbor Towers."
I frowned.
"Why are you calling me?"
"Your name is listed as an emergency financial contact."
My chest tightened.
"I don't own an apartment there."
He hesitated.
"Perhaps there's been a misunderstanding."
"Who is the registered owner?"
He explained that he could not release private ownership details without authorization.
I respected that.
But I asked him to forward any documents bearing my signature to Rebecca.
He agreed to communicate through counsel.
After the call, I sat at my desk for a long time.
The condo was real.
And somehow, my name had become attached to it.
That evening, I drove home earlier than usual.
I wanted to spend time with my mother.
When I entered the kitchen, I found her sitting with Maya.
They were making vegetable soup together.
Maya was chopping carrots.
My mother was giving instructions.
For the first time in days, Evelyn looked relaxed.
I smiled.
"Something smells good."
Mom looked up.
"Your favorite soup."
I laughed.
"You didn't have to cook."
"I wanted to."
Then she pointed at Maya.
"And this young lady is doing all the hard work."
Maya smiled shyly.
"I'm learning."
I looked at the counter.
A small pile of chopped vegetables sat beside the stove.
For such a simple scene, it meant a great deal.
Maya had spent years being served.
Now she was learning to help without being asked.
"How was your day?" I asked her.
She shrugged.
"Okay."
"Did you speak to your mother?"
Her smile disappeared.
"Yes."
I waited.
"She's angry."
"I imagine she is."
Maya stared at the cutting board.
"She says you're trying to destroy our family."
I leaned against the counter.
"Do you believe that?"
She looked up.
"I don't know."
I appreciated her honesty.
"That's fair."
My mother gently touched her arm.
"Families sometimes have difficult conversations, sweetheart."
Maya nodded.
Then she whispered, "Grandma, I'm really sorry."
Evelyn smiled.
"I know."
"No. I mean it."
Maya's voice broke.
"I saw you carrying laundry baskets. I saw you cleaning the dining room. I should have helped."
My mother reached for her hand.
"You can do better starting today."
Maya began crying.
"I want to."
I watched them embrace.
Something in my chest loosened.
Maybe my family wasn't completely broken.
Maybe some relationships could still be repaired.
After dinner, I helped Mom wash the dishes.
She laughed when I dropped a spoon.
"You've never been graceful in a kitchen."
I grinned.
"That's why I became a contractor."
She shook her head.
Then her expression grew serious.
"Arthur, have you spoken to Jasmine?"
"Only through messages."
My mother sighed.
"I don't want you to lose your marriage because of me."
I put down the dish towel.
"Mom, look at me."
She did.
"You didn't cause this."
"But perhaps I should have handled things differently."
"No."
I shook my head.
"You were trying to keep peace. Jasmine chose how to treat you."
Mom looked away.
I gently touched her shoulder.
"I love you. And I won't apologize for protecting you."
She nodded slowly.
Then she whispered, "I love you too."
The next morning, the forensic accountant arrived.
Her name was Natalie Brooks.
She reviewed records for several hours.
By afternoon, she had identified a pattern of transactions.
Payments to a consulting business called Horizon Lifestyle Solutions.
Expensive furnishings purchased through the company card.
Travel expenses unrelated to company operations.
And several transfers into a business account associated with Jasmine.
Natalie was careful.
"These are preliminary findings," she explained.
"We still need to verify the purpose and authorization of each transaction."
I looked at the totals.
More than one hundred thousand dollars required review.
I felt physically sick.
"How long has this been happening?"
"Some transactions date back nearly two years."
Two years.
While I had been planning retirement.
While I was arranging medical care for Mom.
While I was helping Maya finish college.
I had been trusting someone who might have been taking advantage of everything I built.
Then Natalie showed me another document.
It was a payment request.
For forty-five thousand dollars.
Scheduled for the following week.
I frowned.
"What's that?"
She pointed to the vendor.
"Harbor Towers Property Services."
The condo.
My heart pounded.
"Can we stop it?"
"The account access has been restricted pending review."
I exhaled.
Then Natalie said something that made me freeze.
"Arthur, there's another name on several of these records."
I looked up.
"Whose?"
She turned the screen toward me.
My stomach dropped.
May you like
Because the name wasn't Jasmine's.
It was Maya's.
