Chapter 5: The Name on the Deed
Carmine stepped into his study and closed the door.
His attorney, a careful man named Russel Holt who had worked for the family for eleven years, picked up on the first ring.
"Tell me," Carmine said.
"I need you to stay calm while I explain this."
"Russel."
"The deed to the estate — the primary residence and the attached land — was refinanced fourteen months ago.
A second mortgage was taken out against the property."
Carmine sat down slowly.
"I didn't authorize a refinance."
"No.
But someone did.
The signature on the application matches yours.
The notarization is stamped and dated.
On paper, it's clean."
"It's not my signature."
"I know that.
But proving it is going to take time and a forensic document examiner." Russel paused.
"There's more.
The refinance proceeds — just over two million dollars — were paid into a holding account.
That account was then used as collateral for a business loan."
"What business?"
"Vellara Holdings."
The room went very quiet.
"The loan is in default," Russel continued.
"Has been for sixty days.
The lender has already begun proceedings.
If we don't move quickly, Carmine, they have a legal basis to initiate foreclosure on the estate."
"Someone forged my signature to mortgage my own home."
"Yes."
"And routed the money to a company connected to Helena."
"To a company she has been funding for eighteen months, yes.
Whether her name is on it or not, the financial trail is direct."
Carmine stood up and walked to the window.
The garage was visible from here.
Helena's car was still parked inside, the overhead light still on.
"How long do we have before the foreclosure process advances?"
"Thirty days.
Maybe thirty-five.
After that it becomes significantly harder to stop."
"What do I need to do?"
"First — don't confront her again without your own attorney present.
Whatever she said to you in the garage, she's not improvising.
She's been prepared for this conversation."
"She threatened me.
She said things would come out about the family."
Russel was quiet for a moment.
"What kind of things?"
"She didn't specify."
"Then assume she has something.
Or believes she does." Another pause.
"Carmine, I need to ask you something directly.
Is there anything in your past — anything in the estate's history — that someone could use against you?"
Carmine thought of his father.
Of the way the estate had been acquired.
Of certain transactions from twenty years ago that had never been fully explained to him, only inherited.
"I don't know," he said honestly.
"Then we need to find out before she uses it." Russel's voice tightened.
"I'm going to contact a forensic accountant tonight.
I want you to gather every document you can access — estate records, the original deed, any financial correspondence from the last two years.
Lock them somewhere she can't reach."
"Understood."
"One more thing." Russel hesitated.
"The notary who stamped the refinance document.
I ran the license number.
It's real, but the address on file is a mail forwarding service in Naples."
"Naples."
"The same city where Dario Fenwick lived before Milan."
Carmine set the phone down on the desk without ending the call.
He looked at the wall across from him — at the framed photograph of the estate taken the year his father died, the year he inherited everything.
From the hallway, very faintly, he could hear Leo finishing his dinner.
He picked the phone back up.
"Russel.
I need one more thing from you."
"Name it."
"Find out everything there is to know about a man named Dario Fenwick.
May you like
Conviction records, associates, current location." He paused.
"And find out if he has a scar on his jaw."
