Chapter 5 - THE PAPER SHE SIGNED
Dante didn’t let go. If anything, the pressure on Peter’s throat increased.
“What paper?” Dante demanded, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that vibrated through the shattered crystal on the table.
Peter gagged, his eyes bulging. “Let... me... go.”
I rushed forward and grabbed Dante’s arm. The muscle beneath his tailored suit felt like coiled iron. “Dante, please. Don’t kill him. I need to know what he made my daughter sign.”
Dante looked at me. The absolute fury in his dark eyes softened just a fraction. He exhaled sharply and released the pressure, letting Peter slide down the edge of the table. Peter collapsed to his knees, coughing violently and clutching his bruised throat.
“Get the wedding coordinator,” Dante snapped over his shoulder to Marco. “Now.”
Marco vanished through a side door.
Olivia was trembling so violently I thought she might collapse. I wrapped my arms around her, burying her face in my shoulder, ignoring the fact that my own hands were shaking.
“Mom, I’m so sorry,” Olivia sobbed into my neck. “Dad told me it was wedding insurance. He said it was just paperwork to protect the deposits because David’s family was broke. I didn't read it. I was getting my hair done. I just signed where he pointed.”
“Shh, baby, it’s not your fault,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head. “He manipulated you. He manipulated all of us.”
Marco returned a moment later. He was dragging a terrified, clipboard-clutching wedding coordinator by the elbow. The young woman shoved a thick manila envelope toward Dante and scrambled backward.
Dante opened the envelope. He pulled out a thick legal document stamped with the crest of Eleanor’s accounting firm.
He read the first page in silence. His jaw tightened.
Then he handed it to me.
“Read the bold print, Catherine,” Dante said quietly.
I took the document. The legal jargon was dense, but the bold headers were impossible to misunderstand.
Irrevocable Transfer of Trust.Power of Attorney Authorization.Relinquishment of Maternal Assets.
“I don’t understand,” I said, looking up. “My mother didn’t have a trust. She just had a small life insurance policy and the house on Maple Street. Peter already forged my signature to steal the house. What else is there to take?”
Eleanor let out a sharp, mocking laugh. She adjusted her emerald gown, recovering a shred of her arrogance.
“You really are an idiot, Catherine,” Eleanor sneered. “Your mother didn’t just have a house. She had a hidden commercial real estate trust. She owned the land underneath my firm’s new luxury development downtown. Three city blocks.”
I stared at her, completely stunned. “What?”
“She bought it fifty years ago with your father,” Eleanor spat, her facade of elegance cracking. “It was worthless dirt back then. Now? It’s worth twelve million dollars. I tried to buy it from her legally. I sat by her hospital bed and begged her to sell it to me. But the stubborn old hag refused. She said she was leaving it in a hidden trust for Olivia’s future children.”
The room spun. Twelve million dollars.
“So you forged the paperwork,” Dante concluded, his eyes locked on Eleanor. “You drew up a fake transfer of trust. But you needed a blood relative’s signature to authorize the transfer out of the grandmother’s name. Catherine wouldn’t sign. So you used the daughter.”
Eleanor smiled thinly. “Olivia signed it willingly. Fully notarized. Once Catherine is committed tomorrow, Peter takes legal guardianship of Catherine’s estate, counter-signs the trust transfer, and the twelve million dollars legally belongs to my firm.”
“And Peter gets a cut in a Swiss bank account,” Dante finished.
Peter, still on his knees, coughed and wiped his mouth. “It’s airtight. You can’t stop it. The paper is signed. The house is sold. We won.”
Eleanor smirked. “The only problem was the physical trust documents. The old woman was paranoid. She didn’t keep the original bearer bonds or the trust deed in a bank. She hid them.”
Eleanor pointed a manicured finger at me. “She hid them in that dilapidated little house on Maple Street. That’s why we had to forge the deed to buy it. We are bringing in a demolition crew tomorrow morning at six AM. We’re going to tear the house down to the studs to find that safe.”
My heart stopped. They were going to bulldoze my mother’s home. The place where Olivia took her first steps.
“You can’t,” I breathed.
“I already own it, darling,” Eleanor mocked.
Suddenly, Olivia pulled away from my embrace. She wiped her tears, her red eyes locking onto her father.
“You’re not going to tear it down,” Olivia said, her voice eerily calm.
Peter frowned. “It’s already scheduled, Livvy.”
Olivia reached into the small satin bridal bag hanging from her wrist. She pulled out the old brass house key. The one with the blue rubber cover.
“You told me to keep this key this morning,” Olivia said to Peter. “You told me Mom wouldn’t need it anymore. But you forgot one thing, Dad.”
Peter stood up slowly. “What?”
“Mom asked me to wear something old for the wedding,” Olivia said. She held up her wrist, showing the tiny piece of antique lace I had sewn into her sleeve. “I wanted more of grandma’s lace. So before I came to the venue this morning... I went to the house on Maple Street.”
Eleanor froze.
“I went into grandma’s sewing room,” Olivia continued, her voice gaining strength. “I accidentally knocked over her old sewing machine. It cracked the floorboard. And when I went to clean it up... I found something hidden underneath.”
Eleanor lunged forward. “What did you find, you little brat?”
Marco stepped in front of Eleanor, shoving her back violently.
Olivia unzipped the side pocket of her bridal bag.
“I didn’t find twelve million dollars in bearer bonds,” Olivia whispered.
May you like
She pulled out a small, battered leather journal. The edges were worn, the pages yellowed.
“I found this.”
