Chapter 5 - SEVENTY-FIVE MILLION DOLLARSBy eight o'clock Monday morning, my office looked like a war room.
Lily immediately protested.
“Mom, we're going back?”
“Just for a few minutes.”
“Is somebody hurt?”
“No.”
At least I hoped not.
Sophie was sleeping with her head on Lily's shoulder.
Noah stared through the window at the city lights.
I texted our housekeeper, Mrs. Delgado, and asked if she could meet us at the hotel.
She lived twelve minutes away and loved the children like grandchildren.
By the time we returned, the wedding reception had changed.
Guests were still dancing.
Champagne was still flowing.
But beneath the celebration was something tense.
Rumors travel faster than music.
Mrs. Delgado met us at the lobby.
“You go,” she said. “I'll take these angels home.”
“Thank you.”
Lily hugged me.
“Don't let him be mean.”
“I won't.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
The children left.
I took the elevator to the private executive floor.
Victoria stood outside a conference room still wearing her wedding gown.
Her veil had been removed.
Her makeup was smudged beneath one eye.
Arthur stood nearby with two hotel security officers.
Grant was inside.
Alone.
“What happened?” I asked.
Arthur answered.
“I confronted him.”
“I asked you not to.”
“I know.”
His voice carried no apology.
“He admitted Bennett hadn't approved the financing.”
Victoria looked at me.
“You knew?”
“I found out tonight.”
She turned toward her father.
“Then why are we talking about police?”
Arthur's mouth tightened.
“Because that's not all.”
He handed me several documents.
I scanned the first page.
Then the second.
By the third, my pulse had changed.
Grant hadn't merely lied about our financing.
He had created a letter.
A commitment letter.
On Bennett Strategic letterhead.
With Marcus's signature.
Forged.
The room seemed suddenly colder.
“How did you get this?”
“Grant sent it to our investment committee.”
Victoria stared at the pages.
“What does that mean?”
I answered carefully.
“It means someone fabricated a financial document.”
“My husband?”
No one answered.
She looked toward the closed conference-room door.
“He wouldn't.”
Arthur's voice softened.
“Victoria.”
“He wouldn't do something illegal on our wedding day.”
“The document was sent three weeks ago.”
Her face crumpled.
Three weeks before marrying her, Grant had gambled with her family's money using a forged commitment from my company.
This was no longer about revenge.
It wasn't even about our past.
This was criminal.
The conference-room door opened.
Grant stepped out.
His bow tie was gone.
His hair was disheveled.
He saw me.
The look on his face was pure fury.
“You.”
Arthur stepped between us.
“Careful.”
Grant ignored him.
“You planned this.”
I stared at him.
“Planned what?”
“You show up here. You bring Marcus. You talk to Arthur.”
“Marcus drove me.”
“Don't lie.”
Victoria whispered, “Grant.”
He spun toward her.
“Your father is trying to destroy me.”
Arthur laughed bitterly.
“You forged a financing letter.”
“It isn't forged.”
I held up the document.
“This signature isn't Marcus's.”
“You don't know that.”
“I watched him design his signature on a cocktail napkin ten years ago.”
Grant blinked.
I continued.
“He added the ridiculous underline because he thought it made him look like a movie producer.”
From behind me, Marcus said, “Still does.”
Grant went silent.
Marcus had returned after dropping the children with Mrs. Delgado.
He walked over.
Arthur handed him the document.
Marcus studied it.
“Fake.”
Grant's face tightened.
Marcus pointed toward the signature.
“I never dot the i in Mercer.”
I glanced at him.
“Your name doesn't have an i.”
“Exactly.”
Arthur almost smiled.
Grant didn't.
He looked around as though searching for escape.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
“No,” Victoria said.
Her voice was quiet.
But it stopped him.
She stepped forward.
“Did you forge it?”
“Victoria.”
“Did you?”
“This is complicated.”
“No.”
Tears formed in her eyes.
“It's one question.”
Grant looked at me again.
Then at Arthur.
Finally at his wife.
“I was going to get the funding.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“I had every reason to believe Bennett would approve.”
“You hadn't even met Claire.”
“I didn't know Claire owned the company.”
Victoria glanced toward me.
Something bitter entered her expression.
“Of course.”
“What does that mean?” Grant snapped.
“She was always the invisible person in your stories.”
He frowned.
Victoria laughed once, without humor.
“You talked about your first marriage constantly.”
“I did not.”
“You did. You told everyone how you built your company while Claire complained. How you supported her. How she couldn't handle your success.”
Grant looked uncomfortable.
Victoria's eyes moved toward me.
“But she funded you, didn't she?”
I said nothing.
She understood the silence.
“How much?”
“Victoria,” Grant warned.
She looked at him.
“How much?”
“Thirty-seven thousand initially.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
I added, “And approximately sixty-two thousand after that.”
Arthur stared at his new son-in-law.
Grant's face turned red.
“That was marital money.”
“It was inheritance and salary.”
“I paid you back.”
“No.”
“We were married.”
“Exactly.”
Victoria stepped backward as though someone had struck her.
Grant moved toward her.
“Listen to me.”
“Don't touch me.”
The hotel security officers shifted.
Arthur stepped closer.
“You're going downstairs, smiling for the photographs, and telling the guests Victoria is tired.”
Grant stared.
“What?”
“You're not making my daughter's wedding humiliation worse.”
“Dad,” Victoria whispered.
Arthur looked at her.
“We deal with the rest tomorrow.”
Grant laughed.
“You think you control me?”
“No,” Arthur said. “But the ten million dollars you took under false pretenses gives my attorneys substantial influence over your schedule.”
Grant's hands curled.
Then he looked at me.
And there it was.
Hatred.
Not because I had done anything to him.
Because I knew what he'd done.
Because I was standing there as evidence that the story he'd told about himself wasn't true.
“You wanted this,” he said.
“No.”
“Bull.”
“I wanted to attend a wedding and go home.”
“Then why didn't you warn me?”
“Warn you about what?”
“That you controlled Bennett.”
I almost couldn't believe the question.
“You forged a document from a company you thought belonged to strangers, and somehow the problem is that one of those strangers turned out to be me?”
Arthur muttered, “That's actually impressive logic.”
Grant lunged verbally.
“You've always loved playing innocent.”
Something in me finally snapped.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
“I gave you eight years of my life.”
He went still.
“I worked two jobs while you built your company. I paid your employees when you couldn't. I missed holidays, postponed having children, and defended you to everyone who warned me about you.”
Victoria looked down.
“I walked away without trying to destroy you,” I continued. “I didn't expose your affair. I didn't demand half the company I helped finance. I didn't call your investors. I left.”
Grant's jaw flexed.
“And then,” I said, “you invited me here specifically because you wanted me to feel small.”
Silence.
“You don't get to blame me because I didn't stay small.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
Grant looked as if he wanted to answer but couldn't find words sharp enough.
I handed the forged document back to Arthur.
“My legal department will contact you tomorrow.”
Then I turned.
“Claire.”
Victoria.
I stopped.
She stood alone in the middle of the corridor in a wedding gown that probably cost more than my first car.
For the first time, she didn't look glamorous.
She looked frightened.
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That Grant was going to leave you for me.”
The question hurt more than I expected.
“No.”
She swallowed.
“I did.”
Grant said sharply, “Victoria.”
She ignored him.
“I knew you existed.”
I stared at her.
“I knew you were married. He told me it was basically over.”
The oldest lie in the world.
“He said you hadn't loved each other for years.”
I nodded slowly.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Her eyes filled.
“That's it?”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Yell.”
“I did my yelling years ago.”
“I deserve it.”
“Probably.”
Grant scoffed.
I looked at her.
“But you're not the reason I'm standing here. He is.”
Grant's face hardened.
Victoria wiped her cheek.
“I'm sorry.”
I believed she meant it.
That didn't erase anything.
But forgiveness and trust are different currencies.
One can be given freely.
The other has to be earned.
I left the hotel.
The next morning at 7:13, my phone rang.
It was Arthur.
“Claire.”
His voice was grim.
“We have another problem.”
“What?”
“Grant disappeared.”
I sat upright.
“Where?”
“We don't know.”
May you like
Then Arthur said the part that made my blood run cold.
“And seventy-five million dollars connected to Riverpoint appears to be missing.”
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