Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Ivory Dress
Adrian Cross had always made silence feel deliberate.
He sat across from my hospital bed while Eleanor remained near the window.
“What did you find?” I asked.
Adrian opened his briefcase.
“First, you need to understand something about your father.”
“I understood my father.”
“No. You loved him. That's different.”
The words irritated me because they sounded true.
Adrian placed several documents on the rolling table.
“Your father suspected Julian was using your family connections to build Vance Global while systematically separating you from its ownership.”
“I never wanted his company.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian looked directly at me.
“That made you easy to exploit.”
I swallowed my anger.
“Explain.”
“Julian repeatedly told investors that the Beaumont family had no continuing ownership interest. Technically, that wasn't true.”
“The trust.”
“Yes.”
“Fraud?”
“Possibly. But there’s more.”
He slid over a corporate organization chart.
I recognized dozens of subsidiaries.
Then Adrian pointed to three I had never seen.
“North Lake Holdings. Veridian Freight. Hayes Strategic Consulting.”
Hayes.
My stomach tightened.
“Victoria?”
“Her brother owns Hayes Strategic.”
“What do they do?”
“Mostly invoice Vance Global.”
“For what?”
“That is the interesting question.”
Over eighteen months, nearly fourteen million dollars had moved into companies connected to Victoria’s family.
Consulting.
Licensing.
International advisory fees.
The descriptions were vague.
The amounts were not.
“Does Julian know?”
Adrian gave me a look.
“His signature appears on eleven approvals.”
My phone vibrated.
Victoria.
I stared at the name.
“Answer it,” Adrian said.
“Why?”
“Because people become careless when they think they’ve won.”
I answered.
“Hello, Victoria.”
A pause.
“I heard about your surgery.”
Her voice was soft.
Almost compassionate.
I remembered hiring her.
She had been twenty-six, recently divorced, drowning in debt, desperate for an opportunity.
I had convinced Julian to give her one.
“How?” I asked.
“Julian told me.”
“That was fast.”
“Genevieve, I know how this looks.”
I looked at Adrian.
“How does it look?”
Another pause.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Then yesterday must have been very disappointing.”
She inhaled sharply.
“I’m not going to fight with you.”
“Good.”
“Julian loves me.”
“Then enjoy him.”
That silenced her.
Apparently she had expected tears.
Perhaps rage.
What she had not expected was surrender.
“Genevieve…”
“Yes?”
“We need to discuss the house.”
I almost smiled.
Of course.
“What about it?”
“Julian thinks it would be less uncomfortable if you collected your personal things before I move in.”
Eleanor’s mouth dropped open.
Adrian looked down, hiding what might have been amusement.
“When are you moving in?”
“Tonight.”
“Into my house?”
“It’s Julian’s house too.”
“No, Victoria.”
I opened the property record Eleanor had brought.
“It isn’t.”
Silence.
“What?”
“The Gold Coast house belongs to the Beaumont Residential Trust. Julian has never owned one square inch of it.”
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
Another pause.
Then I heard Julian in the background.
“Give me the phone.”
Victoria whispered something.
Julian came on.
“What are you doing?”
“Recovering.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“You’re threatening Victoria with eviction.”
“I corrected her misunderstanding.”
“That house has been our marital residence for seven years.”
“Residence isn't ownership.”
“Genevieve, stop.”
There it was again.
The command.
For years, I had mistaken Julian’s confidence for strength.
Now it sounded like panic wearing an expensive suit.
“I'll have Eleanor arrange for your personal possessions to be packed,” I said.
“You are not throwing me out of my own house.”
“It isn't your house.”
“I paid for renovations.”
“The trust reimbursed those costs.”
“You can’t do this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your husband.”
Adrian raised one eyebrow.
I nearly laughed.
“You should decide which story you're using, Julian. Yesterday I was your former wife. Today I’m apparently your current wife whenever property becomes involved.”
“Come home and we'll discuss this privately.”
“No.”
“Then where are you?”
“I’m safe.”
“I’m coming to the hospital.”
“I've instructed security not to admit you.”
“You instructed—”
I ended the call.
My heart was pounding.
Adrian noticed immediately.
“Pain?”
“No.”
“Don't lie after vascular surgery.”
“I’m fine.”
“You nearly died yesterday.”
“And apparently I have a corporate coup scheduled tomorrow.”
“That can wait ten minutes.”
I looked at him.
“You sound like my father.”
Something flickered across his face.
“That isn't a compliment.”
“It wasn't meant as one.”
For the first time, Adrian smiled.
Small.
Unexpected.
It changed his entire face.
Then Eleanor’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression became serious.
“Security at the house.”
She listened.
“What?”
Another pause.
Then she looked at me.
“Victoria is there.”
“So?”
“She brought movers.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course she did.
Eleanor continued listening.
Then her face changed.
“Wait.”
“What?”
She lowered the phone.
“She isn’t moving in.”
“What is she doing?”
“She’s removing things.”
I sat straighter despite the pain.
“What things?”
“Artwork. Jewelry cases. Two antique cabinets. Your mother’s silver.”
Adrian was already standing.
“Call the police.”
Eleanor nodded.
But I remembered something.
“The safe.”
“What?” she asked.
“My study.”
The blue case had been in the desk, but behind the bookshelf was another safe.
Only Julian and I knew it existed.
Inside were several heirloom pieces and my father’s handwritten journals.
“Tell security no one enters my study.”
Eleanor relayed the instruction.
Then stopped.
Her face went pale.
“What?”
She listened.
“Eleanor.”
She lowered the phone.
“Someone already opened it.”
My blood turned cold.
“Who?”
“Julian.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
Adrian looked at me sharply.
“What was inside?”
“My father’s journals.”
His expression changed.
For the first time since entering the room, Adrian Cross looked afraid.
“What?”
He turned toward Eleanor.
“Find out exactly what Julian removed.”
Then he looked back at me.
“Genevieve, your father’s journals weren't personal diaries.”
“What were they?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Of how Vance Global was really created.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“And if Julian has them, he now knows something your father spent years trying to keep from him.”
“What?”
May you like
Adrian leaned closer.
“Julian Vance was never supposed to control that company.”
