Chapter 2 - FIVE MILLION DOLLARS
Gregory stopped talking the moment the insurance papers appeared.
Until then, he had been explaining everything.
The bat was a joke.
His comment about his father was misunderstood.
My military instincts had caused me to overreact.
The cabin attendant had misheard him.
But five million dollars was harder to explain away.
Chief Security Officer Lena Ortiz arrived ten minutes later.
She was in her late forties, compact, calm, and possessed the kind of eyes that seemed to notice things before anyone told her where to look.
She placed the insurance document on the desk.
“Did your wife know about this policy?”
Gregory looked at me.
I answered first.
“No.”
“It’s standard financial planning,” Gregory said.
Ortiz did not react.
“Five million dollars?”
“I’m a wealthy man.”
“So am I,” I said.
Gregory’s jaw tightened.
That detail mattered.
Gregory liked people believing he had rescued me from some ordinary life.
The truth was that after leaving the Marines, I had earned an MBA and built a career in corporate risk management.
I owned my condo outright.
I had investments.
I had retirement accounts.
And six months earlier, I had inherited a minority ownership stake in a logistics company from my uncle.
I had never needed Gregory’s money.
Maybe that had been the problem.
Ortiz turned toward the photographs.
“Who took these?”
Gregory shrugged.
“A private investigator.”
“Why?”
“I was protecting myself.”
“From your fiancée?”
“People lie.”
I almost laughed.
That was rich.
Ortiz ordered Gregory moved to a separate cabin under security supervision while the ship contacted authorities.
Before he left, Gregory looked over his shoulder.
Not angry.
Not frightened.
Confident.
“You’re making a mistake, Ashlynn.”
The door closed behind him.
Ortiz waited.
“Do you believe he has someone helping him onboard?”
I thought about his words.
My family knows people on this ship.
“Yes.”
Ortiz nodded.
“So do I.”
She picked up the insurance papers again.
“This policy wasn’t issued by a major carrier.”
I looked more closely.
The company name meant nothing to me.
Sterling Atlantic Assurance.
Ortiz typed it into her tablet.
Then she frowned.
“What?”
She turned the screen around.
The company had been incorporated only fourteen months earlier.
Its registered address belonged to Hartman Capital Holdings.
Gregory’s father’s company.
My stomach tightened.
“So his family owns the insurer.”
“That appears to be the case.”
Which meant Gregory had not simply insured my life.
His family had created the company holding the policy.
Ortiz opened the envelope again.
Something remained inside.
A second document had been folded beneath the photographs.
She pulled it out.
My name appeared again.
So did Gregory’s.
But this was not an insurance policy.
It was a transfer agreement.
According to the document, I had agreed to assign my entire interest in Dalton Maritime Logistics to my husband upon my death.
There was only one problem.
May you like
At the bottom of the page was my signature.
I had never signed it.
