جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 20

Eva's formal request arrived at my mother's door on a Wednesday, hand-delivered by a courier in an unmarked black car, exactly as promised. I wasn't there to see her open it. I didn't need to be. She called forty minutes later, her voice pitched somewhere between fury and panic. "What is this," she said, no greeting. "A law firm, Samantha? You sent lawyers after your own mother?" "I sent a formal request for records I'm legally entitled to see," I said, keeping my voice level. "You've had six years to show them to me voluntarily." "This isn't how family handles things." "You're right. Usually family just tells the truth instead of making someone hire lawyers to find it." I gripped the phone tighter. "Where did the money go, Mom?" "There is no money," she snapped. "There are shares, tied up in a company that barely turns a profit most years. You act like I've been sitting on some hidden fortune." "Then the filings should be easy to produce." Silence, thick and telling. "Who's

The rehearsal dinner was smaller than the engagement party, which somehow made it worse — fewer people to hide behind, every glance sharper for having room to land. Liam's hand rested at the small of my back as we walked in together, steady, deliberate, like he wanted everyone in the room to clock it immediately. "You don't have to do that," I murmured. "Do what?" "Announce it with your hand like a press release." "I'm not announcing anything." His mouth curved slightly. "I'm just standing close to someone I like. If it reads as a press release, that's their interpretation, not mine." I bit back a smile, right up until I caught my mother's eyes across the room. She didn't look angry. That was almost worse. She looked like she was recalculating, fast, the same way she had at the brunch table when I'd mentioned the statements. "Samantha." She approached before I could steer us elsewhere, her gaze flicking briefly, assessingly, to Liam. "You didn't mention you'd be bringing a dat

I found them near the coat check, tucked into a hallway meant for staff, my mother's voice low and urgent in a way that made my stomach twist before I even caught the words. "—can't keep stalling the lawyers, Mom. They'll find it eventually, whether you cooperate or not." "You don't understand what's at stake." "Then make me understand." Gracie's voice cracked, raw in a way I'd never heard from her. "You've been lying to both of us. To me too, apparently, if the whispers about Sam's shares are even half true." I stepped into the hallway before I could think better of it. "What whispers?" Both of them turned. My mother's face went carefully blank. Gracie's stayed open, caught, guilty in a way that told me she hadn't meant for me to hear any of it yet. "Sam." Gracie recovered first. "This isn't the place." "You keep saying that." My eyes moved between them. "Funny how there's never a place, according to this family." My mother straightened, composure sliding back into place like

Eva's office looked more like a war room than a workspace by the time Sam and Liam arrived — folders spread across every surface, a whiteboard covered in dates and dollar amounts in Eva's precise handwriting. "Your mother came through," Eva said, without preamble, gesturing at the mess. "Six years of wire transfers, all labeled 'management fees,' all routed through a shell account tied to one of Edward's holding companies. It's not subtle once you know what you're looking for." Sam leaned over the whiteboard, tracing the timeline with her eyes. "Is it enough?" "Enough to prove extortion? Maybe, with the right forensic accountant testifying." Eva tapped a folder. "Enough to prove Edward deliberately sabotaged your father's company beforehand? That's harder. Contracts get pulled for a hundred legitimate reasons. Credit lines dry up. Proving intent, six years later, without your father alive to testify to what he suspected — that's a much steeper climb." Liam's jaw tightened. "So we

Edward's study smelled like cedar and old paper, the same as it had every year of Liam's life since he was nine years old, standing small and silent while men decided things around him. "Sit," Edward said, settling behind his desk. "I'll stand." "Suit yourself." Edward folded his hands, studying Liam with the particular patience he reserved for moments he considered delicate. "Samantha mentioned her mother's been reviewing old accounts." "She did." "Any idea what prompted that?" "None," Liam said evenly. "Families review things. It happens." "Does it." Edward's gaze didn't waver. "You'll forgive me for finding the timing curious. Morgan Rogers hasn't shown interest in her own finances in years, by my understanding. And now, suddenly, right as you and Samantha have gotten serious." "Are you accusing me of something, Edward?" "I'm noting a pattern." Edward's voice stayed pleasant, almost gentle. "I've built this family's stability on patterns, Liam. You'd do well to remember th