Chapter 2 - The Signature
The doorbell rang again.
Ryan looked toward the foyer but did not move.
Thomas did.
He walked out of the dining room like a man heading toward his own execution.
A moment later, two men in dark suits entered.
Behind them was a woman carrying a leather portfolio.
I recognized her immediately.
Naomi Carter had been my father’s attorney for almost fifteen years.
She had attended my college graduation.
She had also been one of the people Ryan told me had helped Dad “cut me out.”
Naomi stopped when she saw me.
For a second, her professional expression broke.
“Emily.”
I could barely speak.
“Naomi.”
She looked at my shoulder.
There was already a dark mark forming beneath the fabric.
Her jaw tightened.
“We should photograph that.”
Ryan scoffed.
“This is insane.”
Naomi turned toward him.
“No, Mr. Bennett.”
She opened her portfolio.
“This is documentation.”
She placed several papers on the dining table.
The top page carried my full legal name.
Emily Grace Whitmore Bennett.
Below it was a signature.
Mine.
Except I had never written it.
I stared at the date.
Three weeks earlier.
“What is this?”
Naomi answered carefully.
“A spousal consent agreement authorizing the proposed sale of Bennett Development Group.”
Thomas stared at Ryan.
“The buyer said that wasn’t necessary.”
“It became necessary when their attorneys discovered the Whitmore trust position.”
I looked at Naomi.
“What position?”
She exchanged a glance with my father, who was still on speaker.
Dad answered.
“Your trust owns fifty-two percent of the preferred equity in Bennett Development.”
My knees almost gave out.
Ryan had spent our entire marriage telling me his family had built the company from nothing.
He had mocked my father for being “a rich man who bought everything.”
Yet more than half of Ryan’s company belonged to a trust bearing my name.
I looked at him.
“How long have you known?”
Ryan’s face was gray.
“Emily, it isn’t what you think.”
“Then explain it.”
“My dad needed financing.”
Thomas interrupted.
“Ryan.”
“No.”
I slammed my palm against the table.
“Let him talk.”
Everyone fell silent.
Ryan swallowed.
“Your father invested ten years ago.”
“Before we got married?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ryan said nothing.
My father answered.
“Because you asked me to help him.”
I stopped breathing.
A memory surfaced.
Ryan sitting in my tiny apartment when we were still dating.
His company struggling.
His father close to bankruptcy.
Me calling Dad and saying Ryan was a good man who deserved a chance.
I had forgotten the amount.
I had never known the terms.
Dad continued.
“I agreed on one condition.”
Ryan whispered, “Charles.”
Dad ignored him.
“The investment would never be controlled by Ryan.”
I stared at the forged signature.
“Then why did he sign my name?”
Naomi slid another page toward me.
May you like
Because the sale would pay the Bennett family almost eighty million dollars.
And without my approval, Ryan could not close it.
