Chapter 3: My Mother's Name
I read the page three times.
ELAINE ASHCOMBE FAMILY TRUST.
My mother's name.
My dead mother's name.
"Where did you get this?"" I asked.
Nathaniel kept his voice low.
"Bank tracing report. It arrived nine minutes ago.""
"That's impossible.""
Desmond heard me.
"What is?""
I folded the paper.
"Nothing.""
He laughed bitterly.
"Oh, now you want privacy?""
Chairman Voss stepped between us.
"Desmond, this event is over for you.""
"No.""
Security had begun moving toward him.
Desmond pointed at me.
"She walks in here pretending she's some brilliant investor, and suddenly I'm a criminal?""
"Nobody called you a criminal," Nathaniel said.
"Not yet," Isolde whispered.
Desmond spun toward her.
"What did you say?""
She removed the second diamond earring.
"I said not yet.""
He stared at her.
Isolde placed both earrings on a cocktail table.
"You told me Mercer Development was being paid for legitimate consulting.""
"It was.""
"My brother has six employees.""
"Isolde—"
"You told me nobody would ever examine those invoices.""
There it was.
Several people gasped.
Desmond's face emptied.
Nathaniel immediately said, "Ms. Mercer, I strongly suggest you stop speaking publicly.""
She looked terrified.
"Why?""
"Because you may need independent counsel.""
Her mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Desmond lunged for the black portfolio.
Security caught him before he reached it.
The movement wasn't violent enough to knock anyone down, but it shattered whatever remained of his executive image.
"Get your hands off me!"" he shouted.
"Desmond," I said.
He stopped.
Everyone was watching us.
Again.
Only now I was standing on the stage.
And he was being restrained beneath it.
"Go home.""
His eyes burned.
"Home?""
"You wanted me to leave.""
I swallowed.
"So I'm returning the favor.""
"You think that apartment belongs to you?""
"It does.""
His face shifted.
I'd bought it eight years before our marriage.
Desmond knew that.
He'd simply gotten used to calling everything mine his.
He straightened his jacket after security released him.
"This isn't finished.""
"No," I said.
"It isn't.""
He walked toward the ballroom doors.
Then he stopped.
Turned.
And smiled.
It wasn't his charming smile.
It was the small, ugly smile he wore when he knew something I didn't.
"Ask Nathaniel why your mother's trust received that money.""
My heart slammed once.
Nathaniel went rigid beside me.
Desmond saw my reaction.
His smile widened.
"Ah.""
He nodded slowly.
"So you haven't told her.""
"Nathaniel?"" I whispered.
Desmond laughed.
Then security escorted him out.
I turned to Nathaniel.
"What haven't you told me?""
Chairman Voss glanced toward the remaining guests.
"We shouldn't do this here.""
"I don't care.""
"Wren.""
"My mother's name is on a transfer involving stolen company funds.""
I held up the paper.
"Someone explain that to me.""
Nathaniel closed the portfolio.
"Your mother's trust didn't receive the money recently.""
"What?""
"The account did.""
"That's what I said.""
"No.""
He looked directly at me.
"There's a difference.""
I hated lawyer sentences.
"Explain.""
"The Elaine Ashcombe Family Trust was dissolved after your mother's death.""
"I know.""
"But one account connected to it remained dormant.""
"For seventeen years?""
"Apparently.""
"Who controlled it?""
Nathaniel hesitated.
That frightened me more than the answer.
"Who?""
"We're still confirming.""
"Then why did Desmond know about it?""
Silence.
Voss looked at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel finally said, "Because Desmond requested archived records connected to your family's original Corvina investment.""
My throat tightened.
"Original investment?""
Voss removed his glasses.
"Wren, there's something about Corvina's history you were supposed to learn after the acquisition closed.""
I stared at him.
"What history?""
"Your father didn't simply invest in Corvina.""
The ballroom was almost empty now.
Staff cleared abandoned champagne glasses.
Somewhere near the doors, Isolde was crying while speaking with an attorney.
None of it seemed real anymore.
Voss continued.
"Thirty-two years ago, your father provided the capital that kept Corvina from bankruptcy.""
"I knew he invested.""
"You don't know the entire agreement.""
"What agreement?""
Voss and Nathaniel exchanged a glance.
I slammed my palm against the table.
"Stop protecting me.""
Voss flinched.
"I'm not twenty years old anymore. My husband has been moving millions through a dead woman's account, and somehow both of you know more about my family than I do.""
Nathaniel reached into the portfolio.
He removed an old cream-colored envelope.
My name was written across the front.
WREN.
I recognized the handwriting instantly.
My father.
My knees nearly gave way.
"He wrote this?"" I whispered.
Voss nodded.
"Three months before he died.""
My father had died when I was twenty-six.
He'd been sick for nearly a year.
In his final weeks, he'd barely had enough strength to lift a glass of water.
Yet the handwriting on the envelope was steady.
Deliberate.
"Why have you had this?""
"Your father left instructions," Voss said.
"The letter could only be delivered if you ever gained controlling ownership of Corvina.""
I looked at him.
"Why?""
"He believed ownership would prove you were ready to hear what happened.""
"What happened to what?""
Voss looked toward the ballroom doors.
"To your mother.""
My skin went cold.
"My mother died in a car accident.""
Neither man answered.
I stepped closer.
"She died in Connecticut. Her car went off the road during a storm.""
Nathaniel quietly said, "That's what you were told.""
The world seemed to tilt.
I tore open the envelope.
Inside were four handwritten pages.
A photograph slipped out first.
It landed faceup on the table.
Three people stood outside Corvina's original office.
My father.
My mother.
And a much younger Alistair Voss.
Behind them was a fourth man I didn't recognize.
I picked up the photograph.
"Who's this?""
Voss didn't answer immediately.
Then I noticed handwriting along the bottom.
Four founders.
Not investors.
Founders.
I looked up.
"My mother founded Corvina?""
Voss nodded.
"With your father and me.""
I pointed at the fourth man.
"And him?""
Before Voss could answer, Nathaniel's phone vibrated.
He checked it.
His expression darkened.
"What now?"" I asked.
"Security just called from the parking garage.""
My pulse accelerated.
"Desmond?""
Nathaniel nodded.
"He didn't leave.""
"Then where is he?""
Nathaniel looked at the envelope in my hands.
"He broke into Chairman Voss's car.""
Voss cursed.
Nathaniel continued.
"And according to the garage camera, he wasn't looking for money.""
I tightened my grip on my father's letter.
"What was he looking for?""
May you like
Nathaniel's eyes dropped to the photograph.
"The rest of your father's files.""
