Chapter 4 - Vanessa’s Real Plan
“What are you doing with my private documents?” Vanessa demanded.
The question was so absurd that Marcus actually raised an eyebrow.
I held up the forged letter.
“Your private documents?”
Vanessa’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Did you write that?”
She looked at him.
“Daniel, don’t start.”
“Did you write it?”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“I was trying to protect our future.”
My son looked as though she had struck him.
“Our future?”
Vanessa glanced toward Richard and Marcus.
“Can we discuss this without employees standing around?”
Richard didn’t react.
I did.
“These employees have demonstrated significantly more loyalty to me tonight than my own family.”
She flushed.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Then explain it.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“I spoke with an estate consultant.”
“Name?”
She hesitated.
“That’s irrelevant.”
“It’s extremely relevant.”
She looked toward Daniel.
“Your mother is getting older.”
I was sixty-three.
Healthy.
Still working.
Still traveling.
Still perfectly capable of running the company I had spent decades building.
Daniel’s voice went low.
“Watch what you say.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“Oh, now you’re brave?”
He flinched.
I recognized the cruelty.
She knew exactly where to strike.
Then she turned to me.
“You control millions of dollars in assets, and Daniel has no real authority over any of it.”
“Because they’re my assets.”
“You’re his mother.”
“Yes.”
“So eventually they’ll be his.”
“Eventually is an interesting word.”
Her expression tightened.
Daniel stepped closer.
“You forged Mom’s signature.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I drafted a proposal.”
“You forged her signature.”
“It was a sample.”
“A sample?”
His voice rose.
“You wrote that she has memory problems!”
Vanessa suddenly snapped.
“Because nobody gives up control willingly!”
Silence.
Even she seemed surprised by what she had admitted.
I studied her.
“How long have you been planning this?”
She looked away.
Daniel asked again.
“How long?”
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears.
But something about them felt calculated.
“I was scared.”
“Of what?” Daniel demanded.
“Of having nothing.”
He laughed once, bitterly.
“We have a beautiful house.”
“Your mother helped buy it.”
“We have savings.”
“Not enough.”
“You make two hundred thousand dollars a year.”
“That isn’t rich anymore!”
Daniel stared at her.
I had never seen him look so disappointed.
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
“All my friends have more.”
There it was.
The truth.
Not survival.
Not security.
Comparison.
She had measured her life against people online, at clubs, at restaurants, on vacations.
And apparently, my money had become the solution to her envy.
I placed the documents back on the table.
“Richard, I want copies preserved.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Marcus, secure every access record related to this.”
“Already underway.”
Vanessa stared at me.
“You’re acting like I committed some enormous crime.”
I looked at the forged signature.
“You may have.”
Daniel whispered, “Mom.”
I turned.
He looked terrified now.
Not for Vanessa.
For himself.
“Am I involved?”
The question broke my heart.
“No.”
He swallowed.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure of what I’ve seen.”
Vanessa laughed.
“Oh, please. He benefits too.”
Daniel turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
She realized too late that she had said too much.
“Nothing.”
“What does that mean?”
Vanessa grabbed her purse.
“I’m done with this conversation.”
Marcus moved toward the doorway.
“You’re free to leave the room.”
She looked relieved.
“But because we’re investigating attempted unauthorized access, you’re not permitted inside restricted administrative areas.”
Her face burned.
“You can’t treat me like a criminal.”
Marcus remained calm.
“I didn’t use that word.”
She stormed away.
Daniel watched her disappear down the hallway.
Then he turned toward me.
“Mom, what do I do?”
I wanted to tell him.
I wanted to protect him.
But I knew I couldn’t.
“You go upstairs.”
“And then?”
“You ask your wife the questions you should have asked long ago.”
He stared at me.
“What if I don’t like the answers?”
I touched his shoulder.
“Then at least you’ll finally know the truth.”
He left.
Richard waited until the elevator doors closed.
Then he looked at me.
“There is another problem.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course there is.”
He handed me a printed banking notice.
Someone had attempted to open a line of credit using Whitmore Coastal Holdings as collateral.
The application had been submitted three weeks earlier.
May you like
The contact person listed on the paperwork was Vanessa Whitmore.
And the requested amount was four million dollars.
