Mrs. Higgins helped me to my feet while Luke continued reviewing documents on his tablet.
After water and a bowl of plain soup, some strength returned to my body. Along with it came a clear, focused anger.
“Tell me everything,” I said.
Luke opened a financial report.
“Over the last six months, Brenda redirected sixty-eight million dollars through three shell companies. One is registered in the Cayman Islands, one in Miami and one in San Francisco. She used corporate accounts Dad had approved for hospitality and representation expenses.”
“How did you discover that?”
“One of the firms processing those accounts belongs to an investment fund in which I hold a significant interest.”
I stared at him.
Part of me still remembered the child who once slept with a stuffed dinosaur tucked beneath his chin.
But the young man standing before me was not helpless.
He was brilliant, disciplined and far more prepared than either Christopher or Brenda had imagined.
Luke opened another folder.
Inside were photographs of me entering restaurants, meeting clients and leaving office buildings. Each had been taken from misleading angles, making ordinary business interactions appear secretive or romantic.
“Brenda sent these to Dad,” he explained. “He chose to believe them because they gave him an excuse for his own behavior.”
“Did Christopher know about her plan to make me ill?”
“Not the full plan. But he knew she intended to force you into a divorce settlement tonight. After the gala, they planned to return here, claim you had become irrational and pressure you into surrendering your shares.”
I walked slowly into the dressing room and opened the lowest drawer of the safe.
Inside lay a black folder that had not been touched in years.
The scent of old paper brought back my father’s voice.
Lawrence Mendoza had been one of the country’s most respected corporate attorneys. Years earlier, when Christopher was only an ambitious businessman with debt and a fragile company, my father invested in him.
But he had never trusted him completely.
Before allowing the marriage to proceed, he required Christopher to sign a strict prenuptial agreement.
One clause stated that proven adultery would immediately transfer fifty-one percent of Grand Horizon Group’s shares to me and Luke.
“Your grandfather knew,” I whispered.
Luke accepted the document carefully.
“He protected you before any of us understood that protection would be necessary.”
“Is it still enforceable?”
“Mr. Davis reviewed every clause. It remains valid. He is waiting at the hotel with certified copies.”
Raymond Davis had once been my father’s most gifted student.
Even three years after his death, my father was still standing between me and the people who wanted to erase me.
Luke watched me quietly.
