Chapter 7 - THE SIGNATURE THAT COULD DESTROY THEM|
Rebecca filed an emergency request to preserve the Hale Meridian records and prevent the equity transfer from proceeding without independent review.
The filing did not accuse Preston of starting the fire. It did something more useful: it challenged the authenticity of the documents he planned to use to secure his voting stake.
Within hours, his lawyers responded.
They claimed I had no standing to interfere with the transaction and accused me of attempting to extort my husband during a marital dispute.
Preston called me repeatedly.
I ignored every call.
Then Cassidy sent a message.
You should think carefully before ruining the future of an unborn child.
I deleted it.
At the office, Gideon was less restrained.
"Preston has been telling investors that you're unstable," he said. "He claims your injuries affected your judgment."
I looked at him.
"He told them that?"
"His communications team circulated a statement suggesting you were receiving treatment for emotional distress."
I felt anger rise through my chest.
"He's using my scars to discredit me."
"He's using anything he can find."
Gideon opened another folder. It contained copies of emails between Preston and Cassidy.
One message caught my eye.
Once the transfer is complete, Vivian won't be able to challenge the ownership structure. The consent page is all we need.
Cassidy had replied:
What if she refuses?
Preston's answer was short.
She won't. She still thinks I'm the man who saved her from being alone.
I stared at the screen.
He had mistaken my patience for weakness.
I asked Gideon whether he could prove that my signature had been copied.
"We have an examiner working on it. But I want you to understand something. If we challenge the transfer, the entire company may face a public investigation. Employees could lose jobs. Investors could panic."
"Then we protect the employees and investigate the people responsible."
He studied me.
"That's not how most people in your position think."
"Most people in my position didn't spend five years being told they should be grateful to the person who betrayed them."
That afternoon, Rebecca found an old version of the consent agreement in my personal email archive.
The original document authorized Preston to refinance one jointly owned property. It did not grant him permission to transfer company shares or pledge marital assets.
The version in the equity package contained an additional paragraph.
Someone had inserted it after I signed.
The signature itself had been copied from the original.
It was the evidence we needed to challenge the agreement.
But there was another problem.
The document had been notarized by a woman named Elaine Foster, who claimed she had witnessed me sign it.
I had never met her.
Rebecca called the notary registry. Elaine's commission had been suspended two years earlier after a complaint involving falsified property documents.
When we requested the underlying file, the registry sent us a scanned copy.
The witness section contained a second signature.
Martin Kessler.
I looked at Rebecca.
"Why would the CFO witness a marital consent form?"
"Because he may have arranged the forgery."
My phone rang.
Preston.
This time I answered.
"Are you enjoying this?" he asked.
"Enjoying what?"
"Making me look like a criminal."
"Did you alter my signature?"
Silence.
Then he said, "You have no idea how much I sacrificed to keep you comfortable."
"You locked me out of your life, Preston. You didn't keep me comfortable."
His voice dropped.
"Listen carefully. You have until tomorrow morning to sign the original transfer consent. After that, I won't be responsible for what happens."
I ended the call.
Rebecca stared at me.
"Did he threaten you?"
"Yes."
She picked up her phone.
"Then we add that to the record."
But before she could make the call, an unknown number sent me a photograph.
It showed my hospital room five years earlier.
Preston was standing beside my bed.
Martin Kessler was sitting in the chair near the window.
And on the bedside table was my phone—the one Preston had told me was destroyed.
May you like
The message beneath it read:
If you want the rest of the truth, come alone.
