Chapter 4 - The Father Who Never Forgave Her
Grant stared at the screen.
“That's impossible.”
Emma read the name again.
“Victor?”
“He doesn't have access anymore.”
“Apparently someone does.”
Grant called the company's IT director.
Within minutes, the director arrived with a laptop and a worried expression.
“Mr. Caldwell, the credentials were used from an external connection.”
“Where?”
“Florida.”
Grant closed his eyes.
His father lived outside Naples.
“Can you trace the device?”
“We're working on it.”
“Freeze the account. Every account connected to these credentials. Now.”
The IT director nodded and left.
Emma watched Grant pace.
“Why did your father want this authorization?”
“I don't know.”
“You said he was retired.”
“He is.”
“Then why is his name appearing on company documents?”
Grant stopped.
“Because my father never accepted that I built Northstar without him.”
Emma remembered Victor Caldwell vividly.
A tall, silver-haired man with a voice that could silence an entire dining room.
He had never liked her.
When Grant first introduced Emma, Victor had asked whether she intended to continue working after marriage.
Emma had said yes.
He had replied that a wife should understand her husband's priorities.
The marriage had survived his disapproval.
Northstar had survived his interference.
But not without damage.
“Have you spoken to him recently?” Emma asked.
“No.”
“Grant.”
“Not in months.”
“Why?”
“Because every conversation becomes an argument.”
A knock interrupted them.
Madison appeared at the door.
“Grant, your father is on line one.”
Grant froze.
Emma looked at him.
“That's convenient.”
Madison glanced at her.
“Mr. Caldwell specifically requested that I transfer the call directly.”
“Which Mr. Caldwell?” Emma asked.
Madison ignored her.
Grant walked to his desk.
“Put him through.”
The speaker clicked.
Victor's voice filled the office.
“Son.”
Grant's expression hardened.
“Father.”
“I hear you've been having problems with your paperwork.”
“Why were your credentials used to create an executive authorization?”
A low chuckle came through the speaker.
“Straight to business. You always were impatient.”
“Answer the question.”
“I was trying to help.”
“By giving my assistant authority over my company?”
“She's a capable young woman.”
Emma felt Grant tense.
Victor continued.
“Unlike certain people who have spent years distracting you from your responsibilities.”
Emma knew exactly who he meant.
Grant's voice turned cold.
“Don't bring Emma into this.”
“Why not? She's standing right there, isn't she?”
Emma looked at the phone.
“How do you know?”
Silence.
Then Victor laughed.
“Hello, Emma.”
“Hello, Victor.”
“I see you're still visiting places where you're not particularly welcome.”
Grant slammed his hand against the desk.
“Enough.”
Victor ignored him.
“Tell me, Emma. Does your husband still believe he owns everything he built?”
Emma looked at Grant.
“What does that mean?”
“It means businesses have shareholders. Contracts. Obligations.”
Grant stepped closer to the speaker.
“What are you trying to do?”
“I'm trying to prevent you from destroying your inheritance.”
“Northstar isn't your inheritance.”
A pause.
Then Victor said something that made both of them go still.
“Ask your wife about the original partnership agreement.”
Emma frowned.
“What agreement?”
Grant didn't answer.
Victor's voice softened.
“The one she signed eleven years ago.”
Emma felt the room tilt.
Eleven years earlier, Northstar had been struggling to secure its first major financing package.
Grant had brought home a stack of documents.
He had explained that the bank needed additional guarantees.
Emma remembered signing several pages at their kitchen table.
She remembered trusting him.
But she did not remember signing a partnership agreement.
“Grant?”
He looked at her.
“Not now.”
Victor laughed again.
“Of course. You never told her.”
Grant disconnected the call.
Emma stared at him.
“What did I sign?”
“It was a standard financing agreement.”
“Victor called it a partnership agreement.”
“He exaggerates.”
“Did I own part of Northstar?”
Grant didn't answer quickly enough.
Emma's eyes narrowed.
“Grant.”
“You did.”
“How much?”
“Twenty percent.”
She sat down.
For years, she had believed Grant owned the entire company.
He had never corrected her.
“What happened to it?”
Grant looked at the windows.
“During the restructuring, your shares were transferred.”
“Transferred to whom?”
“An investment entity.”
“Whose?”
He hesitated.
“Victor's.”
Emma stared at him.
“You transferred my shares to your father?”
“It was temporary.”
“Did I agree?”
“I thought it was necessary to save the company.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Grant looked miserable.
“I was supposed to restore them.”
“When?”
“After the next financing round.”
“Which was eleven years ago.”
He had no answer.
Emma stood.
“Where is my original agreement?”
“Emma—”
“Where?”
“Company archives.”
“Get it.”
She picked up her handbag.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Please don't leave like this.”
Emma looked at him.
“You've spent eleven years letting me believe I was simply your wife while my ownership disappeared into an investment entity controlled by your father.”
“I was trying to protect us.”
“No, Grant. You were trying to make decisions without having to explain them.”
She walked out.
In the elevator, her phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
The message contained a photograph.
It showed Victor Caldwell sitting at a restaurant table.
Madison Pierce sat beside him.
Between them was a document.
And beneath the photograph was one sentence.
May you like
YOUR HUSBAND ISN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS BEEN LYING TO YOU.
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