Chapter 9 - The Thanksgiving Table Becomes a CourtroomVictor Lang made his mistake when he assumed Lydia would run.
Instead, she called the investigator.
Then she called Thomas.
Then she asked Margaret to gather every surviving record from the estate's old filing room.
Within two days, they had enough evidence to expose the fraud.
But they needed Victor.
And Victor wanted a meeting.
He proposed Thanksgiving dinner.
One year after Lydia's first disastrous holiday at the Holloway estate.
This time, the guest list was smaller.
Grant.
Lydia.
Celeste.
Brielle.
Victor.
Thomas Vale.
And two attorneys representing the company's shareholders.
The dining room looked almost exactly as it had the previous year.
The same chandeliers.
The same walnut table.
The same silver candleholders.
But there was no elaborate meal.
No twenty-one guests.
No turkey carried by a woman with injured arms.
Lydia sat beside Grant.
Her arms had healed, although pale scars remained.
Grant had offered to cancel the gathering.
She had refused.
“I want them to look me in the eyes when they hear the truth.”
Victor arrived at seven.
He wore a charcoal suit and carried a leather briefcase.
“Grant,” he greeted him. “You've made this unnecessarily dramatic.”
Grant gestured toward the empty chair.
“Sit down.”
Victor glanced at Lydia.
“Mrs. Holloway.”
“Mr. Lang.”
Dinner began without small talk.
After several minutes, Grant placed the original financial records on the table.
“We know about the shell companies.”
Victor continued cutting his food.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“We have the original ledger, the transfer records, and Richard's confession.”
Victor finally looked up.
“Then you also know the signatures are legitimate.”
“Some are,” Grant replied. “Others were forged.”
Victor smiled.
“Prove it.”
Thomas Vale opened his folder.
“I can.”
Victor's smile vanished.
Thomas explained how the transactions had been authorized, how Grant's credentials had been copied, and how Daniel Mercer had been framed.
Then Lydia placed her mother's final letter on the table.
“My mother discovered the fraud. She was preparing to expose it.”
Victor barely glanced at it.
“Your mother was unstable.”
Lydia's voice remained calm.
“You never met her.”
Victor said nothing.
Grant pressed a button on his phone.
A recording began.
It was Victor speaking to Celeste two weeks earlier.
Victor: “The girl was supposed to disappear after the contract was signed.”
Celeste: “I thought you handled that.”
Victor: “Grant became attached. That complicated things.”
The recording stopped.
Brielle stared at her mother.
“You knew?”
Celeste looked down.
Victor stood.
“This is inadmissible.”
One of the attorneys spoke.
“It's evidence of a conspiracy. We'll let the authorities determine its admissibility.”
Victor reached for his briefcase.
Grant's security team blocked the doorway.
“Sit down,” Grant said.
Victor laughed nervously.
“You think you're untouchable because you're rich?”
“No,” Grant replied. “I think you're finished because you made the mistake of underestimating my wife.”
Lydia opened another folder.
Inside was a bank statement.
It showed a payment from Victor's account to Brielle.
Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
Brielle's face drained of color.
“That's not what it looks like.”
Lydia looked at her.
“Then tell us what it looks like.”
Brielle began crying.
Victor had paid her to keep the kitchen footage hidden and to convince Celeste that Lydia's accident was insignificant.
He had also promised to help her secure a position in one of the family's companies.
Celeste stared at her daughter.
“You betrayed us?”
Brielle laughed through her tears.
“You taught me that everything has a price!”
The words struck harder than anyone expected.
Grant looked at his mother.
“Did you know Victor was planning to get rid of Lydia?”
Celeste's eyes filled.
“I never wanted her hurt.”
“But you let her suffer.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
Celeste finally broke.
“From your father. From the truth. From everything I did to keep this family together.”
The room fell silent.
Then Thomas placed one final document on the table.
A medical report.
It concerned Lydia's mother.
The official cause of death had been listed as an accident.
But the report showed that her vehicle had been tampered with before the crash.
Lydia stared at the page.
“Who did it?”
Thomas looked at Celeste.
Celeste began shaking her head.
“No.”
Lydia stood.
“Who?”
Celeste whispered something that made Grant's blood run cold.
“Your father knew who killed her.”
Lydia's voice broke.
“Then why didn't he tell me?”
May you like
Celeste looked directly at her.
“Because the person responsible was someone your father loved.”
