Chapter 2 - THE HOUSEJulian ended the call.
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he laughed.
It was forced.
Sharp.
Almost hysterical.
“You've been planning this.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since September.”
He shook his head.
“You've been pretending?”
“No.”
“I thought you loved me.”
“I did.”
That stopped him.
“I loved the man I thought you were.”
His eyes hardened.
“So this is revenge?”
“No.”
I walked toward the windows.
Snow covered the gardens where we had once hosted Christmas parties for his investors.
“This is protection.”
“Protection from what?”
“You.”
He said nothing.
Laura cleared her throat through the speaker.
“Julian, you need to understand the legal position.”
“I don't need a lecture.”
“You do.”
Her voice became colder.
“The Connecticut estate was transferred into the Marin-Blackwood Family Preservation Trust eleven months ago.”
Julian stared at me.
“What?”
I turned.
“You signed the transfer.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“When?”
“March seventeenth.”
His face changed.
I remembered that day.
Julian had been rushing between meetings.
He had put a stack of documents in front of me.
“Routine estate restructuring,” he had said.
I had signed two pages.
But he had never noticed that I kept copies of everything.
And I had never signed the page he thought I had.
Because the final transfer required his signature.
And he had signed it himself.
Badly.
Carelessly.
Using an electronic signature that his assistant had uploaded.
Laura explained.
“The property became protected marital property under the preservation trust. Neither spouse can sell, mortgage, transfer, or pledge it without the trustee's authorization.”
Julian's face went pale.
“And who is the trustee?”
I looked at him.
“My father.”
Julian blinked.
“Your father died.”
“No.”
The word landed like a gunshot.
Julian stared at me.
“My father disappeared.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“You knew?”
“I learned the truth two years ago.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I had never told him.
Because my father had asked me not to.
And because he had warned me about Julian.
Men like him don't fall in love with women.
They fall in love with what those women give them access to.
At the time, I had been offended.
Now I understood.
Laura continued.
“Your father-in-law has been the primary trustee for eighteen months.”
Julian's breathing became uneven.
“Where is he?”
“That is not your concern.”
“It is my concern if he controls my property.”
Laura laughed quietly.
“That's the problem, Julian.”
She paused.
“It isn't your property.”
He slammed his palm onto the desk.
“You're lying!”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“That's why you never understood why I never fought you over money.”
His eyes met mine.
“I didn't need your money.”
I pointed toward the documents.
“I needed proof that you thought it was yours.”
He looked down.
There were dozens of pages.
Bank transfers.
Corporate ledgers.
Hotel invoices.
Private jet manifests.
Luxury purchases.
And one photograph.
Isabel.
Sitting beside Julian at an Aspen resort.
Her head resting against his shoulder.
Christmas lights behind them.
Julian stared at it.
I watched his expression collapse.
“You hired someone to follow me?”
“No.”
“Then where did you get that?”
“Your company.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“Blackwood Holdings paid for the trip.”
He stopped breathing.
Laura spoke again.
“Which is why the board has already opened a preliminary investigation.”
Julian's face twisted.
“You can't do that.”
“We already did.”
He looked at me.
“You destroyed my company.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I picked up another document.
“You did.”
At the bottom of the page was a list of payments.
$420,000.
$180,000.
$95,000.
$62,000.
All sent to a company called Monarch Creative Solutions LLC.
Julian stared.
“That company doesn't belong to me.”
“No.”
I smiled.
May you like
“It belongs to Isabel.”
His face went completely still.
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