Chapter 2
Nobody moved when the doorbell rang a second time.
Julian stared at the entrance.
Evelyn gripped the back of her chair.
I could hear my own breathing.
Then my husband's cousin Vanessa stood.
"Should somebody answer it?"
Julian turned sharply.
"Sit down."
She froze.
I looked at him.
"Why are you afraid of whoever is outside?"
"I'm not afraid."
"Then open the door."
His jaw tightened.
"This is my home."
I almost smiled.
There it was again.
My home.
My rules.
My family.
I'd helped pay the mortgage for three years, but Julian never called the penthouse ours when he was angry.
Evelyn stepped toward me.
"Nia, darling, perhaps we should speak privately."
I shook my head.
"No."
Her expression sharpened.
"Don't be foolish."
I looked at the guests.
"For once, I think everyone deserves to hear the truth."
The doorbell rang again.
Julian's uncle Harold cleared his throat.
"Julian, open the door. You're making this worse."
My husband looked trapped.
Then he marched toward the entrance.
I heard the lock turn.
The door opened.
My father stood outside.
Elias Carter.
Sixty-one years old.
Silver beard.
Dark suit beneath a charcoal overcoat.
He looked calm.
But I recognized the anger in his eyes.
Beside him stood a woman in a cream pantsuit carrying a black leather briefcase.
I had never seen her before.
Dad looked past Julian.
"Nia?"
"I'm here."
He immediately walked toward me.
When he saw my forehead, his expression changed.
He raised one hand but stopped before touching the scratch.
"Sweetheart, what happened?"
I swallowed.
"Julian tried to take my phone."
My father's jaw tightened.
"Did he hurt you?"
I nodded.
Dad closed his eyes briefly.
Then he looked at Julian.
"You'll explain that to the authorities."
Julian laughed nervously.
"Authorities? Elias, you're overreacting."
Dad didn't answer.
He turned toward the woman beside him.
"Nia, this is Celia Grant."
She gave me a gentle smile.
"Hello, Mrs. Whitmore."
I nodded.
"Hello."
Dad continued.
"Celia worked as the senior financial controller for Evelyn's development company."
Evelyn made a sharp sound.
"Celia?"
The woman turned toward her.
"Good evening, Mrs. Whitmore."
My mother-in-law stepped backward.
"You have no right to be here."
Celia remained calm.
"I came because I have information concerning Mrs. Whitmore's financial interests."
Julian's face tightened.
"What information?"
She opened her briefcase.
"Documents I personally prepared, along with instructions I received."
A terrible silence filled the room.
I looked at Dad.
"Is this about my shares?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
My stomach twisted.
After my mother died, I inherited a controlling interest in Carter Hospitality Group, the company my parents built together.
Dad remained chief executive.
I had voting rights, but I'd allowed the board to handle ordinary business decisions while I developed my own career.
Julian always complained about that arrangement.
He said my inheritance should be working harder.
He called it wasted potential.
And over the last six months, he'd pressured me to let him manage the shares.
I always refused.
Now I understood why.
Celia placed several pages on the dining table.
"Three weeks ago, I was instructed to prepare a voting proxy assigning authority over Mrs. Whitmore's shares to her husband."
I felt cold.
Julian looked toward the door.
Dad spoke quietly.
"Stay and listen."
Celia continued.
"I was told Nia had already approved the arrangement."
I shook my head.
"I hadn't."
She nodded.
"I know that now."
Then she placed another document beside it.
"This is the version submitted to the bank."
I recognized my name.
My signature.
The same page I'd photographed upstairs.
I felt sick.
"That's not mine."
Julian raised his voice.
"She's confused."
Dad turned toward him.
"No. She isn't."
Evelyn stepped forward.
"These are confidential business documents."
Celia met her eyes.
"I have already provided the relevant records to independent counsel and the appropriate investigators."
My mother-in-law's face drained of color.
Julian suddenly reached for the pages.
Celia pulled them away.
"Please don't touch the evidence."
I stared at my husband.
"You forged my signature?"
He shook his head.
"Nobody forged anything."
I stepped closer.
"Then explain why the document says I signed it while I was in Chicago visiting my aunt."
Julian stopped.
I remembered that trip clearly.
Three weeks earlier, I'd spent four days helping Aunt Rebecca recover from surgery.
Julian remained in Atlanta.
He told me he had important meetings.
Apparently, he did.
Just not the kind I imagined.
Celia opened another folder.
"Mrs. Whitmore, the proxy wasn't the final objective."
My stomach tightened.
"What was?"
She placed a financial statement on the table.
"A proposed loan secured by your inherited shares."
I stared at the amount.
Eight million dollars.
My legs weakened.
Dad reached for my arm.
I sat down.
"Eight million?"
Celia nodded.
"The financing was intended to support a development project controlled by Evelyn Whitmore."
I looked toward her.
She stood completely still.
Then I remembered something.
At dinner, Evelyn had toasted a new luxury resort.
She called it her greatest achievement.
She said the financing had finally been arranged.
Now I knew what she'd meant.
I looked at Julian.
"You were going to risk my inheritance for your mother's company?"
He crossed his arms.
"It's a sound investment."
I stared at him.
"You never asked me."
He didn't answer.
Dad stepped forward.
"Celia, explain the transfer instructions."
She looked at him.
"There's more than the loan."
My stomach tightened.
Celia turned another page toward me.
A bank account number appeared beneath the heading.
PROPOSED BENEFICIAL DISTRIBUTION.
Then I saw a familiar name.
Julian Whitmore.
My husband was listed to receive a personal payment of nine hundred thousand dollars.
I looked up.
"What's that?"
Julian went pale.
Celia answered quietly.
"A fee for arranging the transaction."
I couldn't breathe.
He wasn't simply helping Evelyn.
He was being paid to betray me.
I looked at the man I'd loved.
"The money was worth more than our marriage?"
His expression hardened.
"Nia, don't be dramatic."
For the first time, those words didn't make me question myself.
They made me see him clearly.
I stood.
"Then answer one question."
Julian stared.
I touched the scratch above my eyebrow.
"If this arrangement was so legitimate, why did you hurt me when I found it?"
Nobody spoke.
Then my father placed his phone on the table.
"The hallway camera recorded the confrontation."
Evelyn's eyes widened.
Julian looked horrified.
I stared at Dad.
"You have the footage?"
He nodded.
"And there's another recording."
My stomach tightened.
"What recording?"
Dad looked at Celia.
She removed a small storage device from her briefcase.
"A meeting between Julian and his mother."
The room went silent.
Celia continued.
"It explains why they were so desperate to secure your signature before tonight."
May you like
And suddenly, I realized the forged document wasn't the beginning of their plan.
It was only the part I'd been lucky enough to discover.
