Chapter 6 - The Company in My Name|
By Friday afternoon, Margaret had identified a company called Northstar Family Holdings.
It had been incorporated eleven years earlier, two years after Dante and I married. The company owned several commercial properties and held a minority interest in a logistics business. My name appeared as the majority owner.
I had never heard of Northstar.
“Is that possible?” I asked Margaret. “Could I have signed something without knowing what it was?”
“You may have signed documents as part of a larger packet. You may also have been misrepresented to. We need the original filings and the documents used to establish the company.”
“Who manages it?”
“A man named Victor Hale. He has ties to one of Dante's legitimate businesses.”
I looked at the paperwork.
“Why would Dante put a company in my name and never tell me?”
“That's what we need to determine.”
Margaret warned me not to remove money or transfer assets. If the company had been used for legitimate transactions, it was important not to disturb the records. We requested the corporate filings through the proper channels and notified the relevant financial institution that I disputed certain signatures.
For the first time, I began to understand how much of my life had been built on trust without verification.
I had never asked to see every document Dante placed before me. I had signed household papers, foundation reports, and tax forms because I believed he would never use my name without explaining why.
That afternoon, Elena asked me to accompany her to the venue for her birthday.
“I'm not going to let your son ruin my eightieth birthday,” she declared. “And I refuse to have a celebration where everyone whispers about you being missing.”
“I don't want people taking sides.”
“They won't be asked to. They will be asked to eat, dance, and celebrate an old woman who has earned the right to have a pleasant evening.”
We arrived at the hotel ballroom, where the staff were setting up flowers and checking the lighting. I had selected pale gold linens, ivory roses, and small blue arrangements to honor Elena's favorite color.
The event coordinator approached with a worried expression.
“Mrs. Morty, Mr. Morty called this morning. He wants the host's name changed on the final program.”
“Changed to whose name?”
“His and Mrs. Bianca Morty's.”
I stared at her.
“Bianca is not his wife.”
The coordinator flushed.
“He said she would be representing the family.”
Elena's face became cold.
“Then the program will remain as it is. Isabella organized this event. Her name stays.”
I touched Elena's arm.
“It's all right.”
“No, it isn't.”
She turned to the coordinator.
“Please make no changes without my written approval.”
The coordinator nodded and hurried away.
I felt embarrassed, but beneath the embarrassment was something else: a growing clarity. Dante was not merely trying to control our bedroom. He was rewriting my place in the family in public, one decision at a time.
At the hotel entrance, we found a floral delivery addressed to Bianca.
The card read:
To the woman who has always understood me. Some things were never truly over.
There was no signature.
Elena read it over my shoulder.
“That's from my son,” she said.
“How do you know?”
“Because he used to send me flowers with that exact wording when he wanted me to forgive something he'd done.”
I swallowed.
Perhaps Dante had been preparing for Bianca's return long before the plumbing emergency.
On the drive back, Elena asked if I wanted to cancel the birthday celebration.
“No,” I said. “I won't let him take that from you.”
“Even if he makes a scene?”
“Especially then.”
When we reached her house, Margaret called with the first documents from Northstar.
The incorporation papers carried my name, but the signature was accompanied by a notarization dated on a day I had been out of the country with Elena.
I remembered that trip clearly. I had been in Arizona helping her recover after surgery.
The notary's stamp appeared to be genuine.
The signature did not.
Margaret's voice was grave.
“Isabella, someone may have used your identity to establish this company.”
“Can we prove who?”
“We're working on it.”
Then she added, “There is one more thing. Northstar owns a property currently occupied by Bellweather Consulting.”
The same company receiving the suspicious transfers.
I stared at the window, where rain streaked the glass.
May you like
The truth was no longer confined to my marriage.
Someone had built a financial structure around my name, and I had been the last person to know.
