“Adrian asked me to sign something too.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A partnership authorization.”
“For Mercer Ridge?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“What did it say?”
“I didn’t read all of it.”
She looked ashamed.
“He said it was routine.”
“Do you have a copy?”
“In my email.”
“Send it to me.”
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
I gave her my number.
Three minutes later, the document arrived.
I opened it.
At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at.
Then Richard came over.
He read the first page.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Sienna.”
He looked at her.
“Did you sign it?”
“Yes.”
Richard kept reading.
Then he swore quietly.
I had never heard him swear in front of Evelyn.
“What?”
He pointed to a paragraph.
“This makes Sienna personally responsible for certain Mercer Ridge obligations.”
Sienna stared at him.
“What?”
“Did you have independent counsel?”
“No.”
“Did Adrian tell you to?”
“He said we didn’t need lawyers for everything.”
Richard closed his eyes.
I almost laughed again.
Of course.
Adrian had built a world in which lawyers were unnecessary until he needed one.
Sienna took the phone from me and reread the document.
Her hands began trembling.
“How much?”
Richard shook his head.
“I can’t tell from this.”
She looked sick.
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
Richard’s expression softened slightly.
“Get an attorney tomorrow.”
“On Sunday?”
“Yes.”
I almost smiled.
Apparently fraud really did observe weekends.
Sienna left twenty minutes later in a rideshare.
Nathan stayed.
Richard wouldn’t let him leave until he explained everything he knew.
I sat at the far end of the dining table with my laptop open.
At 10:14 p.m., my attorney called me back.
Her name was Delaney Rhodes.
She had handled my grandmother’s estate planning before taking me on as a client.
I explained the situation.
She listened.
Then she asked me to send photographs immediately.
I did.
Five minutes later, she called again.
“Maren, do not sign anything.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not verbally agree to anything either.”
“Okay.”
“And tomorrow morning, we need to secure the trust records.”
My stomach tightened.
“Can Adrian access them?”
“He shouldn’t be able to.”
“Shouldn’t?”
“That’s what we’re going to confirm.”
She paused.
“Where are you sleeping tonight?”
I hadn’t thought about that.
My house.
Our house.
Adrian’s house too.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t go home alone.”
That made the situation feel real in a new way.
“I don’t think Adrian would hurt me.”
“I’m not suggesting he would.”
Delaney’s voice remained calm.
“I’m suggesting that you are now in a financial dispute with someone who has already used your identity without permission.”
That was different.
She was right.
I stayed at Richard and Evelyn’s house.
Not because I wanted comfort.
Because I didn’t want to walk into my own home without knowing what I would find.
At midnight, I sat in the guest room wearing one of Evelyn’s robes.
My anniversary-party dress hung over a chair.
My phone had forty-three unread messages.
Most were from Adrian.
The first said:
You embarrassed me in front of my entire family.
I stared at it.
Then laughed quietly.
The second:
Dad had no right to show you confidential company documents.
The third:
Nothing was ever going to happen to your property.
The fourth:
Sienna doesn’t understand the financing.
The fifth:
Nathan is blaming me to protect himself.
Then:
We need to talk before lawyers turn this into something it isn’t.
I stopped there.
That sentence told me exactly what to do.
I forwarded every message to Delaney.
Then I turned my phone off.
At seven the next morning, Richard was already in the kitchen.
He had not changed clothes.
His tie was gone.
His sleeves were rolled up.
Coffee sat untouched beside him.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked.
“I never went to bed.”
I sat across from him.
“Where’s Evelyn?”
“Sleeping finally.”
He rubbed his face.
Then he looked at me.
“I owe you an apology.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“For not seeing it sooner.”
“You’re not responsible for Adrian.”
“I made him executive vice president.”
“That’s business.”
“I trusted him.”
“So did I.”
That ended the argument.
Richard looked down at his coffee.
“Do you know what bothers me most?”
“What?”
“He used the company.”
I expected him to say me.
Or Evelyn.
Or the anniversary.
But he continued.
“I built that company so my children would have something stable.”
His voice tightened.
“Adrian treated it like a drawer he could reach into whenever he wanted.”
I understood.
My grandmother’s property.
His company.
Different assets.
Same violation.
Someone else deciding that what we had built was available to them.
Richard pushed a folder toward me.
“I made copies.”
I opened it.
Bank correspondence.
Loan documents.
Emails.
Corporate resolutions.
One email stopped me.
It was from Adrian to Nathan.
Subject: M.W. authorization.
M.W.
Maren Whitlock.
My maiden initials.
The message read:
Use the prior signature sample. She’s already on board, and we don’t have time to wait for Delaney to revise the trust language.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
There it was.
No ambiguity.
No misunderstanding.
Use the prior signature sample.
I looked at Richard.
