Chapter 11 - The Night My Ex-Husband Tried to Sell My Reputation"BY THE TIME THIS EVENING IS OVER, SIMONE, EVERYONE WILL BELIEVE YOU WERE PART OF NORTHSTAR."
Grant spoke so calmly that, for a moment, I almost forgot he was threatening me.
I stood beside a tall window overlooking the entrance of Ottawa's Grand Wellington Hotel.
Beyond the glass, expensive cars rolled beneath a covered driveway.
Men in tailored suits escorted elegantly dressed women toward the ballroom.
The private investment presentation was about to begin.
And according to the printed program, Carter Forensic Consulting was one of the evening's principal financial partners.
A complete lie.
I held my telephone a little tighter.
"Grant, my attorney has already notified Northstar that it has no authorization to use my company's name."
He laughed.
"You always think paperwork solves everything."
"No. But it helps people distinguish facts from fantasies."
"You don't understand how much money is involved."
"Then perhaps you should stop pretending I agreed to guarantee it."
His voice hardened.
"You're going to regret humiliating me."
I looked through the window.
For nine years, I'd been frightened of that sentence.
Grant had used it whenever I challenged his spending or questioned his mother's behavior.
Sometimes it meant days of cold silence.
Sometimes it meant another family dinner where everyone treated me like the villain.
But standing there, wearing a simple black evening dress beneath my cream-colored coat, I felt something different.
I was tired of being afraid of a man whose greatest talent was convincing other people they needed his approval.
"No, Grant," I answered. "I regret not questioning you sooner."
I ended the call.
Helena stood a few feet away.
"Are you ready?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
We had approached the evening carefully.
My attorney had sent written notices to the event organizers, the venue, and the relevant representatives of Northstar.
The notices disputed the company's use of our name and warned against presenting the forged guarantees as genuine.
Olivia had informed the organizers that she had ended her engagement to Grant.
She had also received an invitation permitting her to bring guests.
When she learned the event was proceeding despite the warnings, she asked whether Helena and I would accompany her.
I hadn't agreed immediately.
The last thing I wanted was a theatrical confrontation that could interfere with the investigation.
But after speaking with the authorities and receiving legal advice, I'd decided that a direct, factual correction might prevent additional people from investing based on false information.
We would not trespass.
We would not threaten anyone.
And we would not disclose confidential financial records.
We would simply make the truth clear to anyone being told that my firm supported Northstar.
Olivia joined us near the entrance.
She wore a dark blue dress and a simple silver necklace.
Her left hand was bare.
"Ready?" she asked.
I looked at her.
"Are you?"
She smiled sadly.
"No. But I'm going anyway."
We entered together.
The ballroom was magnificent.
Crystal chandeliers hung above round tables covered with white linens.
Waiters carried trays of sparkling water and champagne.
Large screens displayed photographs of commercial developments.
The Northstar logo appeared everywhere.
And beside it, repeatedly, was my company's name.
I felt my stomach tighten.
Several guests recognized me.
One man approached with a friendly smile.
"Ms. Carter! Wonderful to finally meet you."
I recognized him from a professional conference.
"Good evening."
He gestured toward the stage.
"I had no idea your firm was expanding into private property investment."
"It isn't."
His smile faded.
"I'm sorry?"
"My company has no financial partnership with Northstar. We've formally disputed the documents suggesting otherwise."
He stared at me.
"Then why is your logo on the screen?"
"That's a question the organizers need to answer."
He looked toward the stage.
His expression changed.
Then he excused himself and immediately reached for his phone.
Across the room, Warren Pike stood speaking with a group of investors.
He was a tall man in his late forties, with carefully styled gray hair and an expensive navy suit.
When he saw me, his smile faltered.
Only for a moment.
Then he excused himself and approached.
"Simone. What a pleasant surprise."
"Good evening, Warren."
He glanced at Helena.
"I wasn't aware you were attending."
"Olivia invited us."
His eyes moved toward Olivia.
For the first time, I saw genuine irritation break through his polished expression.
"Olivia, I thought we'd discussed this."
She held his gaze.
"We discussed Grant's lies. I didn't agree to help him continue them."
Warren's smile disappeared.
"You're making an emotional decision."
Olivia answered quietly.
"No. That's what I did when I trusted him. This is a financial decision."
I almost smiled.
Warren turned back to me.
"Simone, whatever misunderstandings exist between you and Grant, there's no reason to damage a legitimate investment."
"Then stop using my name to support it."
He leaned closer.
"You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of these people."
I looked directly into his eyes.
"Warren, I spent nine years worrying about embarrassing your friend. I'm finished with that."
Before he could respond, a bell sounded.
Guests began moving toward their tables.
The presentation was starting.
Grant stepped onto the stage.
He looked handsome in his dark suit.
Confident.
Relaxed.
Exactly as he'd looked at our wedding.
For a moment, I remembered standing beside him beneath white flowers, believing I had chosen a partner who would stand with me through everything.
Then he began speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight. Northstar represents an extraordinary opportunity to participate in carefully selected commercial developments."
The screens changed.
Projected buildings appeared.
Financial figures followed.
Grant spoke about stability.
Integrity.
Professional oversight.
Every word sounded like a cruel joke.
Then he reached the section I'd been waiting for.
"One of the strengths of our venture is the support of Carter Forensic Consulting, an established firm with a distinguished reputation."
I stood.
Helena remained beside me.
Several guests turned.
Grant's expression changed when he saw me.
I spoke clearly enough for nearby tables to hear.
"My company has not authorized that representation."
The room became quieter.
Grant forced a smile.
"Simone, perhaps this isn't the place for personal disagreements."
"This isn't personal. It's a correction of a false business claim."
Warren moved toward the stage.
Helena stepped forward.
"Mr. Mercer, written notice disputing these representations has already been delivered. We ask that you stop presenting Carter Forensic Consulting as a partner or guarantor."
A ripple moved through the audience.
Someone whispered.
A man near the front stood and asked:
"Are you saying the financial guarantee isn't valid?"
I answered carefully.
"I never signed or authorized the guarantee being circulated in my name. Its authenticity is formally disputed."
Grant's face darkened.
"She's upset about our divorce."
Olivia stood beside me.
"No, Grant. She's telling the truth."
Every head turned.
Grant stared at Olivia.
"Don't do this."
She lifted her empty left hand.
"You told me Simone had approved your investment arrangements. You told me your marriage was over long before we met. You lied to both of us."
The ballroom fell silent.
Warren approached the microphone.
"These are unfortunate personal allegations. We have independently verified documentation."
He pressed a button.
A new document appeared on the large screen.
Independent Financial Assurance Report.
Below it was my company's logo.
And at the bottom were two signatures.
One purportedly mine.
The other belonged to someone I trusted completely.
Nadia Shah.
My senior forensic analyst.
My friend.
The woman who had spent days helping me uncover Northstar's deception.
I stared at her name.
Warren smiled coldly.
"Perhaps Ms. Carter would like to explain why her own senior analyst signed the report."
I felt my blood run cold.
May you like
Because Nadia hadn't signed anything.
And whoever had created that document was willing to frame more than one person to protect the scheme.
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