Chapter 6
By morning, my doctors had placed an alert on my chart.
No transfer.
No outside rehabilitation facility.
No visitor without authorization.
Julian’s family would not move me anywhere.
But someone still tried.
At 9:10 a.m., two men wearing medical transport uniforms arrived with paperwork transferring me to Blackwood Recovery Center.
Hospital security stopped them.
The documents carried my doctor’s forged signature.
One transport worker immediately admitted Eleanor arranged everything.
The other refused to speak.
Detective Bell arrested both for questioning.
I looked at Rebecca.
“They actually came.”
“They believed they still had authority.”
“After police involvement?”
“Desperate people make stupid decisions.”
Then she placed something in my hands.
Divorce papers.
I had asked for them.
Still, seeing Julian’s name beside mine hurt.
Once, I had imagined growing old with him.
Now I was requesting supervised restrictions around our newborn.
Rebecca watched me.
“You can wait.”
“No.”
“You just gave birth.”
“I also just discovered my husband plotted to steal my company.”
I signed.
This signature belonged to me.
No one copied it.
No one coerced it.
Mine.
Grace woke as I finished.
I held her.
“You and me.”
That afternoon, Julian’s attorney contacted Rebecca.
He wanted a deal.
“Financial restitution in exchange for you supporting reduced charges.”
I laughed.
“No.”
“He claims he can recover the missing eight million.”
“Then he should recover it because he stole it.”
“There may be additional money.”
“How much?”
“Julian says eighteen million.”
I stopped.
“Eighteen?”
“He claims the eight million was only what Marcus found.”
My father’s company had been bleeding for years.
Rebecca arranged for forensic accountants to examine everything.
The result was worse.
$18.7 million had been diverted through inflated contracts, fake consulting agreements, and property transactions.
Some thefts predated my marriage.
That made no sense.
“Julian wasn’t around then.”
“No.”
“Eleanor?”
“She wasn’t either.”
Rebecca placed the oldest transaction in front of me.
Ten years ago.
$600,000.
Authorized under my father’s name.
My father had died nine years earlier.
“Who received it?”
“North Vale Partners.”
I stared.
“Vale?”
Rebecca nodded.
The company was registered to someone named Edward Vance.
My uncle.
My father’s younger brother.
I had not spoken to Edward in twelve years.
He disappeared after a bitter argument with Dad.
“What does Uncle Edward have to do with Julian?”
“We don’t know.”
Police located him quickly.
He lived three states away.
When Detective Bell called him, Edward laughed.
“You finally found the missing money.”
I gripped the phone.
“You knew?”
“I tried to tell your father.”
“He’s dead.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me.”
Edward explained that my father had suspected a corporate theft before his death.
He believed someone inside Vance Development was creating fake projects.
“Who?”
“Your father thought it was me.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Edward hesitated.
“A woman named Eleanor Mercer.”
My blood froze.
Eleanor.
Julian’s mother.
“That’s impossible.”
“She worked under another surname.”
“When?”
“Before Julian ever met you.”
I looked at Rebecca.
This conspiracy had not begun with my marriage.
Maybe my marriage had begun because of the conspiracy.
Edward continued.
“Amelia, Julian did not accidentally meet you at that fundraiser.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“How do you know?”
“Because Eleanor spent years trying to get someone close to you.”
I whispered:
“Julian married me for the company.”
May you like
Edward answered softly.
“Yes.”
