Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Web of Lies
The older man in the charcoal suit immediately closed his leather portfolio and stood up. He wasn't a corporate attorney; I recognized him from the wedding as Uncle George, Patricia’s estranged brother, an estate attorney who hadn't spoken to Patricia in nearly a decade but had attended our ceremony out of affection for Ryan.
""I think this is my cue to step out into the hallway, Ryan,"" George murmured quietly, casting a sympathetic glance in my direction. ""Remember what we discussed. The paper trail doesn't lie.""
When the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind George, Ryan buried his face in his hands. He sank slowly into the leather executive chair, looking smaller than I had ever seen him.
""You weren't supposed to find out like that,"" he whispered hoarsely.
""Find out like what, Ryan? That you stole from me?"" I snapped, stepping closer to his desk, slamming my palms down on the polished mahogany. ""I worked eighty-hour weeks for five years to save that money! It was my safety net, my pride, my contribution to our future! And you handed it over to a woman who views me as domestic help and treats you like her personal puppet!""
Ryan snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with tears. ""I didn't steal it, Emily! God, you think so little of me!""
""Then explain it to me! Because right now, the county deed says Carter Holdings LLC owns the roof over our heads, and Patricia was just on my mother's porch threatening to destroy my business and leave me destitute!""
Ryan froze. ""She went to your mother's house?""
""She sure did. Promised to cut you off without a penny if you don't divorce me, and promised to audit my company into oblivion.""
Ryan let out a sound that was half-groan, half-sob. He stood up, pacing the perimeter of the office like a caged animal. ""She doesn't have the power to cut me off, Emily. That's the lie she’s been feeding Madison and me our entire lives. That's why George was here.""
I paused, crossing my arms, my skepticism acting as an impenetrable shield. ""Start talking. And you better make it make sense.""
Ryan dragged a hand through his hair. ""My father didn't leave the family fortune to my mother. When Dad died seven years ago, he knew exactly what Patricia was capable of. He knew she would use the money to manipulate us forever. The entire estate—the trusts, the rental properties, the commercial parcels, even her house outside Nashville—was left to me and Madison in equal halves, with Uncle George named as the primary executor until I turned thirty.""
I stared at him, my brow furrowed. ""You turned thirty last month.""
""Exactly,"" Ryan said, his voice dropping to a trembling register. ""Dad's will stipulated that when I turned thirty, the trust dissolved, and the assets transferred directly into my sole management as trustee. My mother has been living off an allowance authorized by George. She doesn't own the Brentwood house. She tricked the title company into putting Carter Holdings LLC on the preliminary paperwork by forging my signature on an authorization memo three weeks before the wedding while I was swamped with closing deals.""
May you like
The room spun slightly as the scope of Patricia’s deceit crystallized in my mind. ""She forged your signature?""
""She did,"" Ryan said, walking over to the conference table and pointing at the blue folder Uncle George had left behind. ""And when you dumped that roast beef in the trash, it wasn't just dinner she was defending. She was testing you. She needed you broken, submissive, and terrified of her before I discovered what she did to the deed. Because she knew the moment you stood up for yourself, I would finally find the courage to stand up to her.""
