Chapter 3 - THE CHRISTMAS MORNING AMBUSH
At 8:12 a.m., Richard walked into our house carrying two enormous gift bags.
Vanessa followed him.
She wore a cream-colored designer coat, diamond earrings, and the same confident smile she'd worn at our Christmas dinner.
For one terrible second, I wondered whether she had deliberately chosen to wear the earrings Richard had bought her with money stolen from my father's company.
“Emily!” she exclaimed. “Merry Christmas!”
I didn't answer.
Richard kissed my cheek.
His cologne was unfamiliar.
“Where are the kids?”
“Upstairs.”
“Good. I bought them presents.”
He placed the bags beside the Christmas tree.
Then he looked at David.
“What are you doing here?”
David remained seated.
“Visiting an old friend.”
Richard's smile disappeared for half a second.
Then he laughed.
“Of course. Well, we have some family business to discuss. Vanessa is helping me reorganize the company.”
“Is that why she's here?”
“Don't start, Emily.”
I looked at him.
“Start what?”
His jaw tightened.
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Emily, I know this may feel sudden, but Richard and I have been working very closely together. He's under tremendous pressure, and I thought it would be better if we discussed everything openly.”
I almost laughed.
Openly.
The woman who had spent Christmas Eve in my husband's bed was standing beside my Christmas tree pretending to be a corporate mediator.
Richard removed a folder from his coat.
“I need your signature.”
I glanced at the documents.
It was another authorization form.
This one transferred several voting rights to the new holding company.
“What's this?”
“A restructuring agreement.”
“Why do you need my signature?”
“Because you're a beneficiary.”
“Then why wasn't I informed before?”
Richard exhaled impatiently.
“Because you don't understand how complicated these transactions are.”
David leaned forward.
“Perhaps you should explain them anyway.”
Richard's eyes narrowed.
“This doesn't concern you.”
“It concerns me if you're asking my client to authorize a transfer of trust assets.”
The room became silent.
Richard slowly turned toward me.
“Your client?”
I folded my arms.
“David represents me.”
“Since when?”
“Since last night.”
His expression changed.
For the first time that morning, I saw genuine fear.
Then he recovered.
“Emily, this is ridiculous. You're tired. The children are sick. We should discuss this privately.”
“Why?”
“Because you're making a scene.”
I looked toward the staircase.
Lily was standing there in her pink pajamas, holding her stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy?”
I immediately softened.
“Sweetheart, go back upstairs. I'll be there in a minute.”
She looked at Vanessa.
Then at Richard.
“Is Daddy staying for Christmas?”
Richard forced a smile.
“Of course, princess.”
Lily hesitated.
“Then why did you tell Aunt Vanessa you were taking her to Paris?”
Nobody moved.
Vanessa's face went white.
Richard turned sharply.
“Lily, go upstairs.”
“But I heard you on the phone.”
“Now.”
Lily flinched.
I stepped between them.
“Don't shout at her.”
Richard stared at me.
For a moment, the man standing in front of me looked like a stranger.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Emily, we need to talk.”
David stood.
“No. We need to discuss the documents.”
He opened his briefcase and removed a copy of the original shareholder agreement.
Richard glanced at the first page.
His expression hardened.
“You don't have authority to reopen that agreement.”
“Actually,” David replied, “I do. And Emily has considerably more authority than you seem to remember.”
Richard grabbed the paper.
“That's impossible.”
“Would you like me to explain the controlling provisions?”
Richard threw it back onto the table.
“This is a family matter.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You made it a corporate matter when you forged my signature.”
Vanessa stepped backward.
Richard turned toward her.
“Don't say anything.”
That was when I noticed her reaction.
She wasn't looking at me.
She was looking at the documents.
Specifically, at the page containing the new holding company's registration details.
“Richard,” she whispered, “you told me everything was already approved.”
He glared at her.
“Not now.”
David placed another document on the table.
It was a preliminary transaction record showing that several properties had already been assigned new internal ownership numbers.
Richard's face changed.
“Where did you get that?”
“From the company's records.”
“Those records are confidential.”
“Not when they involve suspected fraudulent transfers.”
Richard suddenly reached for the document.
I pulled it away.
“Don't touch it.”
He stared at me.
Then he smiled.
It was the coldest smile I'd ever seen.
“You really think you can fight me?”
I looked him directly in the eyes.
“I don't think, Richard. I know.”
He leaned closer.
“You have no idea what I've already arranged.”
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
Mrs. Carter, this is Michael Hayes, the company's chief financial officer. Please don't trust David completely.
I stared at the screen.
A second message followed.
Your father didn't leave you the company. He left you something much bigger.
Then came a photograph.
It showed my father standing beside a little girl.
May you like
The girl looked about three years old.
And she had my eyes.
