Chapter 3: The Woman at the Door
Valerie pulled the phone away from Julian and walked into the hall.
“Valerie, stop.”
She opened the door.
Eleanor Price stood outside holding a leather case against her chest.
Silver-haired and straight-backed, she looked past Valerie and fixed her eyes on Julian.
“You told me she had moved overseas,” Valerie said.
“And he told me you wanted no contact with anyone connected to your father,” Eleanor replied.
Julian stepped between them.
“This is a private family matter.”
“I represented Valerie’s father for twenty-seven years.
Move.”
Margaret Sterling appeared behind her son.
“You have no right to enter our home.”
Eleanor opened her case and removed a deed.
“Vale House Limited owns this property.
Valerie owns every share in Vale House Limited.”
“This is marital property,” Julian said.
“No.
It was purchased four years before your marriage and protected by the agreement you signed.”
Julian’s sister gripped the back of a chair.
Valerie noticed.
“Cassandra, what do you know?”
“Nothing.”
“Look at me.”
Cassandra raised her eyes for half a second, then glanced at Julian.
Julian pointed toward the door.
“Eleanor is here because she wants control of your money.
Your father trusted the wrong people.”
Eleanor placed three envelopes on the table.
Each had Valerie’s name on it.
“I sent these after your father passed,” she said.
“Every one came back with a note saying you refused further contact.”
Valerie picked up the first envelope.
The note on the front was written in familiar block letters.
She turned it toward Julian.
“This is your handwriting.”
“I handled your correspondence because you asked me to.”
“I asked you to sort the mail.
I never asked you to answer it.”
“You were grieving.
I protected you.”
“From my father’s attorney?”
“From people who saw a vulnerable heiress.”
Eleanor slid another document across the table.
“Three days ago, my office received instructions to transfer this property.
When I called Valerie’s registered number, Julian answered.”
Margaret folded her arms.
“My son manages the family’s business.”
“There is no Sterling family business,” Eleanor said.
“There is Valerie’s business, and there are people living from it.”
Cassandra’s hand began to shake.
Valerie saw it.
“Why did you look at the doorway when I mentioned the false signature?”
“I was frightened.”
“Of me?”
Cassandra looked at her brother.
“No.”
Julian struck his palm against the table.
“Enough.
Cassandra has always been nervous.
Don’t turn that into evidence.”
“The request was witnessed by a notary,” Eleanor said.
“Unfortunately for whoever filed it, that notary was in hospital on the date shown.”
Margaret’s mouth fell open.
“Julian?”
“It is an administrative error.”
“Then explain the signature,” Valerie said.
Julian reached into his jacket and produced a folded sheet.
His confidence returned as he placed it beside Eleanor’s documents.
“You signed a power of attorney six months ago,” he said.
“It gave me authority to act in your name.”
Valerie stared at the signature at the bottom.
It was hers.
May you like
Julian leaned closer.
“Now ask yourself what else you gave me permission to do.”
