Chapter 2
Vanessa disappeared upstairs with her bridesmaids, and Daniel followed ten minutes later. When he returned, his face was tight with fury.
“You switched the chairs.”
I took a slow sip of water. “Did I?”
“You humiliated my wife.”
I looked at Elena beside me. She had not yet understood why Vanessa’s dress had torn, and I intended to keep it that way until after the reception.
“Interesting choice of words,” I said.
Daniel leaned closer. “You’re going to apologize.”
“No.”
His expression changed. He was used to me yielding whenever Elena begged me not to fight with him.
Vanessa returned wearing a replacement reception dress and the smile of someone planning a murder.
During dinner, she took the microphone.
“Families are complicated,” she said sweetly. “Some people support you. Others become jealous when their children succeed.”
Several guests glanced toward us.
Daniel stared at his plate.
Vanessa continued. “Fortunately, Daniel and I are starting fresh. We’re moving into the Ridgemont house next month, and his father has generously agreed to transfer it to us.”
Elena turned toward me.
I had agreed to let them live there for one year.
I had never agreed to transfer ownership.
Then Vanessa delivered the clue that confirmed this was bigger than a cruel prank.
“And Daniel’s company will soon be expanding into the entire Westbridge building.”
That lease negotiation was confidential.
Only Daniel, my attorney, and I knew Westbridge was available.
Unless Daniel had been searching through documents in my study.
I excused myself and called my lawyer, Marcus Hale.
“Freeze everything scheduled for Monday,” I told him. “The Ridgemont transfer draft, Daniel’s trust distribution, and the Westbridge lease.”
Marcus went silent. “You think he’s compromised?”
“I think he’s forgotten who owns the table he’s eating at.”
Twenty minutes later, Marcus emailed me security logs from my home office. Daniel’s access code had opened my study three nights earlier while Elena and I were at dinner. A camera clip showed Vanessa photographing files from my desk.
Among them were trust statements and preliminary sale documents for Hawthorne Hall.
They had not merely mocked Elena.
They were measuring my estate.
Marcus checked Daniel’s recent trust inquiries. Two weeks earlier, Daniel had asked whether marriage would accelerate his inheritance if something happened to both parents. He called it “estate planning.” Marcus had found the question strange but harmless. Now it sounded very different.
I forwarded the footage to a private email and returned to the reception.
Vanessa was laughing again, one arm looped through Daniel’s.
When she saw me, she raised her champagne flute.
“To new beginnings.”
I smiled.
“To consequences.”
Her smile faltered.
At nine thirty, the MC announced the parent dances. Daniel approached Elena with an impatient hand extended, as if doing her a favor.
Before she stood, I touched her arm.
“Not tonight.”
Daniel frowned. “Dad, don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” I said.
May you like
I glanced toward the ballroom doors, where Marcus had just entered carrying a slim black folder.
“I’m finishing it.”
