Chapter 1 - THE NIGHT HIS SMILE DISAPPEARED
My husband’s fist sent me crashing against the marble floor.
The side of my face struck first. Then my shoulder. The impact knocked one of my earrings loose, and I watched the small diamond skip across the foyer while Adrian Vale stood above me adjusting his French cuffs.
“No one will ever believe you,” he said.
He said it quietly.
That was Adrian’s favorite way to frighten me. He rarely raised his voice when nobody else was around.
I touched my lip and looked at the blood on my fingers.
Behind him, Celeste Vale stood beside the staircase with one hand wrapped around a crystal tumbler.
“Rebecca,” she said, sounding exhausted rather than alarmed. “Why do you keep pushing him?”
I looked at her.
Her son had just hit me hard enough to split my mouth, and somehow I had created an inconvenience for her.
Adrian turned toward the dining room.
On the mahogany table lay the document he had ordered me to sign.
TEMPORARY VOTING AUTHORITY — CONVERSION AND RATIFICATION.
At least, that was what the first page said.
The packet beneath it was nearly sixty pages.
“I’m not signing anything tonight,” I said.
Adrian stopped.
“You’ll sign it.”
“I found the transfer.”
For the first time, his fingers paused over his cufflink.
Celeste lowered her drink.
I pushed myself upright against the marble console.
“Twelve million dollars,” I said. “Northbridge Settlement Holdings. Sent three weeks ago from Carter Family Holdings.”
Adrian’s face barely changed.
That frightened me more than anger would have.
“You went through my office.”
“Our office.”
“Rebecca.”
“Where did the money go?”
He walked toward me.
I stayed against the table because my knees had started trembling.
“You’ve spent three years proving exactly why your father didn’t trust you with this company,” he said. “You get emotional, you stop sleeping, you go through files you don’t understand, and then you start accusing people.”
“My father left the company to me.”
“Your father left you shares. He left me the responsibility of keeping them from destroying you.”
“That isn’t what the trust says.”
Celeste laughed softly.
“You read one document and suddenly you’re a corporate lawyer?”
I looked at the woman who had spent three years telling country-club friends that I was recovering from “nervous exhaustion.”
Then I looked back at Adrian.
“Tomorrow morning I’m calling Evelyn Shaw.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“You haven’t spoken to Evelyn in years.”
“I spoke to her Tuesday.”
Silence settled over the foyer.
Adrian’s hand dropped away from his cuff.
Celeste set down her glass.
“What did you tell her?” he asked.
“Enough.”
He grabbed my wrist.
I did not pull away.
That surprised him.
For months, I had practiced not reacting when he wanted one.
“Let go.”
“You listen to me.” His fingers tightened. “Tomorrow, you sign the permanent authority. After that, you’re going to Greenbrook for a few weeks.”
I stared at him.
Greenbrook was a private psychiatric facility outside Charlottesville.
“You already called them?”
“You need rest.”
“I need a lawyer.”
“You need treatment.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“Your father had the same concerns, Rebecca.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
She smiled without warmth.
“Thomas worried about your judgment long before Adrian married you.”
Adrian released my wrist.
The packet on the dining table suddenly seemed less important than the sentence Celeste had just spoken.
Then white light flooded the windows.
Adrian turned.
A pair of headlights swept across the foyer ceiling.
Then another.
Then another.
Cars rolled through the iron gates and around the circular drive, black SUVs moving slowly through the rain.
Five.
Seven.
Ten.
Celeste hurried to the window.
“What the hell is this?”
Adrian looked at me.
I wiped blood from my chin.
The SUVs stopped.
Doors opened.
Men and women in dark weather coats stepped into the rain. Several wore sidearms beneath their jackets, holstered and visible, exactly the way licensed executive-protection officers carried them.
Nobody rushed the house.
Nobody drew a weapon.
They simply took positions along the drive and front entrance.
On the chest of each rain jacket was a small silver crest.
CARTER PROTECTIVE SERVICES.
My father’s company.
Adrian turned slowly.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing tonight.”
The rear door of the lead SUV opened.
Evelyn Shaw stepped out.
She was seventy-one now, tall and narrow, her white hair pulled into the same severe knot she had worn when she served as my father’s general counsel.
She carried a leather case in one hand and an umbrella in the other.
Adrian moved toward the front door.
I stepped in front of him.
“You’re not letting armed people into my house.”
I almost laughed.
“Your house?”
His eyes narrowed.
Before he could answer, the bell rang.
Once.
Evelyn never rang twice.
I opened the door.
She looked at my face.
Her gaze moved to Adrian.
Then Celeste.
Then the unsigned packet on the dining table.
“Rebecca,” she said, “do you want these people inside?”
“Yes.”
The protection officers entered without drama. Two remained near the foyer. One asked me quietly whether I wanted medical help.
Adrian took out his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
“Please do,” Evelyn said. “That saves us a call.”
Adrian stared at her.
Evelyn handed me a folded handkerchief.
“Hold this to your lip.”
I did.
She walked toward the dining table and opened her leather case.
Adrian followed.
“You’re no longer counsel to Carter Holdings.”
“No,” Evelyn said. “I’m counsel to the Carter Family Trust.”
He stopped.
I looked at her.
That was news to me too.
Evelyn removed a document.
“Rebecca asked me three days ago to review a twelve-million-dollar transfer,” she said. “I did.”
Adrian leaned both hands on the table.
“You have no authority here.”
“Maybe.”
She looked at me.
“But before we discuss authority, there’s something Rebecca needs to understand.”
She slid a bank tracing report across the table.
I recognized the transfer amount.
$12,000,000.
I recognized Northbridge Settlement Holdings.
But beneath it was a section I had not seen.
GUARANTOR: REBECCA CARTER VALE.
My mouth went dry.
“I never guaranteed anything.”
“I know,” Evelyn said.
Adrian’s face had gone still.
Evelyn looked directly at him.
“And the twelve million didn’t go to Vanessa.”
I stared at her.
“Then where did it go?”
She opened another page.
“To cover a loan default.”
“Whose?”
Evelyn placed her finger beneath the borrower’s name.
Adrian did not look down.
Celeste did.
And the glass slipped from her hand.
The borrower was a company I had never seen before.
May you like
But the guarantor underneath my name was one I knew very well.
CELESTE VALE.
