Chapter 6: The Signature That Wasn't Hers
Renata took the photograph from Mara's hand, studied it for ten seconds, and set it flat on the table.
"When did you sign this?" she asked.
"I didn't."
Renata looked at her over the top of her glasses.
"Ms.
Whitfield—"
"I did not sign that document." Mara kept her voice level.
"I have never seen it before in my life."
Renata turned the photograph toward Domenico.
He leaned forward, looked at it without touching it, and sat back.
"What is it?" Mara asked.
"I couldn't read all of it."
"It's a voluntary departure agreement," Renata said.
"Dated three weeks ago.
It states that you agreed to leave the Thorne household employment of your own free will, waived all claims against the employer, and accepted a settlement of four hundred dollars." She paused.
"It also includes an acknowledgment that the pregnancy was the result of a relationship with Preston Thorne and that you accept full personal responsibility for that situation."
The room was very quiet.
"Four hundred dollars," Mara said.
"Yes."
"And my signature."
"A signature." Renata turned the photograph back toward herself.
"Not necessarily yours.
That's what we need to establish." She looked up.
"Do you have anything with your genuine signature on it?
The original employment contract, a bank document, anything?"
"The employment contract.
I kept a copy."
"Good.
We'll need a forensic document examiner." Renata was already writing.
"This changes the picture significantly.
Forging an employee's signature on a legal document is not a civil matter.
That is crjminal fraud."
Domenico's phone was already in his hand.
He stood, moved to the corner of the room, and spoke quietly into it.
Mara couldn't hear the words but she recognized the tone — the flat, efficient voice of a man issuing instructions that would be followed immediately.
Mara looked at the photograph on the table.
Her name.
Someone else's hand.
"Celia sent this," she said.
"Which means Celia has access to documents Bianca thinks are secure."
"Yes," Renata said.
"Which means Bianca doesn't know yet how much Celia has."
"Correct."
"We need to move Celia out of that house before Bianca figures it out."
Renata looked at her steadily.
"That is not a legal matter.
That's a logistics matter."
Mara looked at Domenico.
He was already ending his call.
"Celia can leave tonight," he said.
"I have a place.
She'll be safe."
"She needs to bring everything she has," Mara said.
"Physical copies, digital copies, everything.
Once she's out, Bianca will know."
"Understood." He looked at Renata.
"How quickly can you file?"
"If we have the forensic analysis on the signature by Thursday, I can file Friday." She closed her folder.
"But I want to warn you both — the moment we file, Senator Thorne will know.
And he will not sit quietly."
"No," Domenico agreed.
"He won't."
"Do you have a response prepared for what he might do?"
Domenico looked at Mara.
It was a genuine question — he was asking her, not answering for her.
"What's his most likely move?" Mara asked Renata.
"Pressure campaign.
Attempt to paint you as unstable, opportunistic, or dishonest.
Possibly a counter-filing claiming you breached the employment contract." Renata paused.
"And he may go after Domenico's business interests.
He sits on two regulatory committees."
Domenico's expression didn't change.
"Let him."
"You're not worried?" Mara asked.
"I've been managing regulatory pressure since I was twenty-six." He said it without arrogance, just as a fact.
"Senator Thorne has leverage over people who need his approval.
I don't need his approval." A pause.
"And I've been very careful, for a very long time, to make sure that the things I do can withstand scrutiny."
Mara looked at him.
She believed him.
She wasn't entirely sure she should, but she did.
"There's something else," she said.
She turned to Renata.
"The other woman.
The twenty-two-year-old who signed the repayment agreement.
We need to find her."
"Agreed.
Do you have a name?"
"Celia will have it." Mara picked up her phone and typed quickly.
The reply came back in under a minute.
She read it and looked up.
"Her name is Dani Reyes.
She's in Portland now.
Celia has a phone number."
Renata wrote it down.
"I'll reach out today."
"Carefully," Mara said.
"She signed that agreement under pressure.
She may be frightened."
"I know how to make that call." Renata's voice was dry but not unkind.
"I've made it before."
The meeting ended twenty minutes later.
Mara and Domenico walked out into the corridor together, and for a moment neither of them spoke.
The building was quiet around them — marble floors, the distant sound of a phone ringing somewhere, the soft close of a door.
"Are you all right?" Domenico asked.
"Someone forged my signature to make it look like I accepted four hundred dollars and admitted the baby was Preston Thorne's." Mara kept walking.
"No.
I'm not all right." A pause.
"But I'm not falling apart either."
"I know."
"I want to call Celia myself.
I want to be the one to tell her it's time to go."
"Of course."
They reached the elevator.
Mara pressed the button and they waited.
"My daughter," she said.
Not looking at him.
Looking at the elevator doors.
"I've been thinking about the name."
He didn't say anything.
Just waited.
"Eleanor," Mara said.
"After my mother."
The elevator arrived.
The doors opened.
"That's a good name," Domenico said quietly.
They stepped in.
The doors closed.
May you like
And in the Thorne mansion across the city, Bianca was standing in her study holding a phone to her ear, and the voice on the other end — her father's voice, low and controlled and cold — was saying: "Find out exactly what Voss knows.
And deal with the girl before Thursday."
