Chapter 4 - Forty-Seven Lies“FORTY-SEVEN TIMES, DOMINIC? YOU USED MY NAME FORTY-SEVEN TIMES?”
I spoke quietly when my husband entered the conference room, but every person seated around the table heard me.
Dominic stopped just inside the door.
His eyes moved from me to the tablet.
Then to Gerald Wexler.
A flicker of understanding crossed his face.
He knew exactly what we'd discovered.
“Evelyn, you need to calm down.”
I almost smiled.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you're making accusations you don't understand.”
“Then explain why your phone number has been receiving security approvals for my inheritance.”
Dominic looked toward Richard.
“Mr. Mercer, this is a misunderstanding.”
Richard's expression was dangerously composed.
“Then I'm sure you'll welcome an independent investigation.”
Gerald cleared his throat.
“These arrangements were established years ago. Beneficiaries often appoint representatives.”
I turned toward him.
“Show me the appointment.”
He hesitated.
Mara opened the folder.
“Here.”
The document was dated during the first year of my marriage.
My signature appeared beneath a paragraph granting Dominic limited authority to act on certain investments and communications.
I studied it carefully.
Something about the handwriting bothered me.
At first glance, it resembled my signature.
But the final letter looked wrong.
My mother had taught me to form the last stroke of my maiden name with a small upward curve.
After marriage, I'd carried that habit into my new signature.
The forged signature ended in a heavy downward line.
It was close.
But it wasn't mine.
“Who witnessed this?” I asked.
Mara checked the next page.
“A notary named Patricia Morrow.”
“Where?”
“Downtown Chicago.”
I read the date again.
Then my heart began pounding.
On that particular afternoon, I hadn't been in downtown Chicago.
I'd been at Northwestern Memorial Hospital beside my dying mother.
I remembered because Dominic had brought me coffee that afternoon.
He'd kissed my forehead and promised to handle everything while I stayed with her.
I could still hear his voice.
You focus on your mother, sweetheart. I'll take care of the paperwork.
I looked up.
“I know exactly where I was that day.”
Dominic's expression tightened.
“Evelyn—”
“At the hospital. With my mother.”
His face went pale.
Mara immediately made a note.
Richard turned to the board's counsel.
“I want the proposed transfer suspended until the authenticity of every authorization is independently verified.”
Gerald sat forward.
“You can't simply cancel a transaction of this size because someone suddenly has concerns.”
“Then we're fortunate I'm not asking you to cancel it,” Richard replied. “I'm requesting a pause while counsel determines whether the required consent exists.”
The board's independent counsel, a serious-looking woman named Helen Price, adjusted her glasses.
“If a material authorization is genuinely disputed, proceeding tonight would create substantial legal exposure.”
Gerald's expression darkened.
“The delay could cost us millions.”
I looked at him.
“Whose millions?”
He didn't answer.
Dominic stepped closer.
“You're destroying something that could benefit everyone.”
I stood.
“Then tell me who benefits.”
He lowered his voice.
“You're letting Mercer manipulate you.”
“No, Dominic. For the first time in eight years, I'm asking questions.”
He looked genuinely bewildered.
Perhaps he hadn't expected that possibility.
Richard turned toward the directors.
“The pending transaction will not proceed tonight without appropriate legal review.”
Helen nodded.
“That's the responsible course.”
Gerald exchanged a glance with Dominic.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
Their fear wasn't about the delay.
It was about what an investigation might uncover.
The meeting adjourned shortly afterward.
Dominic followed me into the corridor.
“Evelyn, listen to me.”
I kept walking.
He moved in front of me.
“Everything I did was for us.”
“For us?”
“Our future.”
“You told me I wasn't good enough to stand beside you three hours ago.”
He looked away.
“That was anger.”
“You brought another woman to a gala and ordered me out of our home.”
“Because our marriage stopped working.”
I stared at him.
“Was it ever real?”
His expression hardened.
“Don't start rewriting history.”
I took one step closer.
“Then tell me the truth about the letter my mother sent me.”
For the first time, Dominic looked frightened.
“Who told you about that?”
I felt a terrible certainty settle inside me.
“You remember it.”
He said nothing.
“What was in it?”
“Evelyn, your mother was confused near the end. She said things that weren't true.”
My chest tightened.
“Don't you dare use her illness to defend yourself.”
He reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“Where is the letter?”
Dominic's eyes moved toward the ballroom.
“It's gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I don't know.”
Before I could press him, Vanessa emerged from the corridor.
She approached hesitantly.
“Dominic, I think we should leave.”
He turned on her.
“Not now.”
Vanessa flinched.
The reaction surprised me.
I'd imagined her as an untouchable woman who had everything she wanted.
But she looked afraid.
I noticed that she kept one hand wrapped around her phone.
Dominic returned his attention to me.
“This isn't finished.”
“No,” I said. “It isn't.”
He walked away.
Vanessa remained.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she looked down.
“I didn't know about your mother.”
I studied her carefully.
“What did you know?”
She swallowed.
“Not enough.”
It was a strange answer.
Before I could ask another question, she followed Dominic toward the elevator.
I returned to the private library.
Richard stood beside the window, looking out over the river.
Mara had spread several financial records across the table.
“What are those?” I asked.
She looked up.
“Transactions associated with the trust.”
I sat.
“Show me.”
Mara hesitated.
“Some of these records may be disturbing.”
“Everything about tonight has been disturbing.”
She slid a summary toward me.
During our marriage, millions had moved through investment companies linked to Dominic.
Some transfers were legitimate loans.
Others appeared to have relied on disputed beneficiary instructions.
The earliest substantial transfer had been an eighteen-million-dollar financing arrangement for Vale Capital.
I'd never heard of it.
“What was the money used for?”
Mara checked the records.
“Your husband's first major acquisition.”
I remembered that year.
Dominic's company had been drowning in debt.
He'd been afraid investors would abandon him.
Then one Friday, he'd come home carrying champagne.
We did it, Evelyn.
Someone finally believed in me.
I'd cried with happiness.
I'd believed my husband had earned his second chance.
Now I stared at the transaction record.
Eighteen million dollars.
Connected to my mother's trust.
“Who approved the transfer?” I asked.
Richard remained facing the window.
Mara didn't immediately answer.
I looked at the signature line.
My breath caught.
It wasn't Dominic's signature.
It wasn't Gerald Wexler's.
The authorization had been approved by the trust's supervising fiduciary.
RICHARD MERCER.
I raised my eyes toward the man who had escorted me into the ballroom.
“Richard?”
He turned slowly.
May you like
I held up the document.
“Tell me why your signature is on the first payment that made my husband rich.”
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