Chapter 4: The Man Behind the Forgery
My mother's words frightened me more than anything Brandon had done that evening.
"Oh, Emily. Please tell me it wasn't him.""
I turned toward her.
"Who, Mom?""
She looked at my father’s phone, then at Brandon.
"Your uncle.""
For several seconds, I couldn't understand what she meant.
"Uncle Michael?""
My mother's eyes filled with tears.
Michael Carter was my father's younger brother. He had managed the Carter family trust for nearly twenty years and had been responsible for overseeing several of our family's investments.
He'd attended my wedding.
He'd given the speech at our tenth anniversary dinner.
And he'd helped Brandon secure the original financing for his company.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
My mother took my hand.
"Your father trusted him with everything.""
Brandon suddenly laughed.
"Well, that's convenient. Now we're blaming Richard's own family?""
I turned toward him.
"Nobody is blaming anyone. We're asking questions.""
"You're letting your father turn a corporate disagreement into a criminal investigation.""
Daniel stepped forward.
"Brandon, I heard you discussing the forged documents. I have the recording.""
Brandon pointed at him.
"You recorded a private conversation without permission. Do you understand what that means?""
Daniel didn't flinch.
"I understand what it means to discover your wife helping another man steal money.""
Vanessa covered her face.
"Stop saying that!""
"Why? Is it embarrassing?""
"Daniel, please!""
He shook his head.
"You had months to tell me the truth.""
My phone vibrated.
Dad was calling again.
I answered immediately.
"Emily, listen carefully. Michael is on his way to the house.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
"He claims he needs to collect some original trust documents.""
My stomach tightened.
"Does he know about the transfer?""
"He knows the accountants discovered it. He doesn't know how much evidence we have.""
I looked toward the mansion.
"Should I let him in?""
"No. I've already instructed security not to release any company or family documents. My attorneys are coming.""
Brandon laughed.
"You're treating this like a police raid.""
My father heard him.
"Brandon, if you have nothing to hide, you'll have no reason to object to an audit.""
Brandon's jaw tightened.
Then a black Mercedes pulled into the driveway.
My uncle stepped out.
Michael Carter was sixty-one, silver-haired, and always impeccably dressed. He wore a dark navy suit and carried the same leather briefcase he'd used for years.
He approached the terrace with a familiar smile.
"Well, this is quite a party.""
Nobody answered.
His eyes moved to my wet dress.
"Emily? What happened to you?""
I stared at him.
"Brandon pushed me into the pool.""
Michael gave a small laugh.
"Good grief. I suppose the champagne was flowing a little too freely.""
I felt my fingers tighten around the towel.
"Uncle Michael, did you prepare a shareholder consent form using my signature?""
His smile disappeared.
He looked at Brandon.
Then at Vanessa.
Finally, he turned toward me.
"Where did you hear that?""
That was answer enough to make my heart sink.
"I asked you a question.""
Michael placed his briefcase on a nearby table.
"Emily, corporate transactions are complicated. Your father has a habit of making ordinary business matters sound sinister.""
"Did you forge my signature?""
"Absolutely not.""
"Then why did Dad say the document was created using your credentials?""
He sighed.
"Your father is becoming paranoid.""
Brandon stepped forward.
"Michael, perhaps we should discuss this somewhere private.""
My uncle nodded.
"That's probably wise.""
Daniel immediately raised his phone.
"No, I think everyone should hear it.""
Michael glared at him.
"Who are you?""
"Daniel Reed. Vanessa's husband.""
Michael's expression changed.
"Ah.""
Daniel gave a bitter smile.
"Yes. The husband.""
Michael opened his briefcase.
"I have no intention of discussing confidential family business with strangers.""
He pulled out a thick folder.
Then my mother noticed something.
"Michael, why are you carrying Emily's original trust agreement?""
I looked down.
The familiar blue folder had my name printed across the front.
My uncle quickly closed the briefcase.
"Richard asked me to bring it.""
"No, he didn't," I replied.
Michael's face hardened.
"Emily, you should stop interfering in matters you don't understand.""
I stepped closer.
"That document controls the shares your nephew-in-law wants to steal.""
Brandon snapped.
"Stop calling it stealing!""
Thomas Whitaker finally spoke.
"Then explain why the transfer was concealed from the board.""
Brandon turned toward him.
"I don't answer to you.""
Thomas looked at me.
"Actually, under the current shareholder agreement, he does.""
My uncle suddenly reached for his briefcase.
But before he could pick it up, my father's voice came through the phone.
"Michael, don't touch that briefcase.""
My uncle froze.
Dad continued.
"I've just received confirmation from our attorneys. The document in your possession is not the original agreement.""
Michael's face turned gray.
"What?""
"The original agreement has been stored in our law firm's secure archive for eleven years.""
My mother looked confused.
"Then what is he carrying?""
Dad answered quietly.
"A replacement document. One that was never authorized by the trust.""
Michael slowly lowered his hand.
I stared at him.
"Uncle Michael, what have you done?""
He looked directly at me.
Then, for the first time in my life, he stopped pretending to be the loving uncle who had watched me grow up.
"Your father should have retired years ago," he said coldly.
"And you should have stayed out of the company.""
Before anyone could respond, two black SUVs entered the driveway.
May you like
My father's attorneys had arrived.
And the man stepping out of the second vehicle was carrying a document that would change everything.
