Chapter 4: Everything Nathan Built on a Lie
I told Miriam to send a car.
She didn't argue.
She made two calls — one to the driver, one to her office — and by the time she finished, Helena was sitting back down at the table with her hands folded in her lap like a woman waiting for a verdict she already knew was coming.
"How much did you tell him?" I asked.
"The trust conversion date," Helena said.
"The thirty-eight percent threshold.
The fact that the proxy clause in the original Aurelia shareholder agreement had never been updated after your father disappeared." She looked at the table.
"Nathan came to me two years into your marriage.
He said he was trying to protect Aurelia.
That if something happened to you before your twenty-ninth birthday, the shares could end up in a legal dispute.
He said he wanted to understand the structure so he could plan properly."
"And you believed him."
"He was your husband."
"He was sleeping with Celeste Hart for eight months."
"I didn't know that."
"No," I said.
"You just handed him the blueprint."
She flinched.
I let her.
Miriam set her notepad down.
"Emma.
We need to talk about what this means legally before your father arrives."
"Tell me."
"If Helena provided Nathan with confidential trust information without authorization from the trustee, that's a separate exposure.
It doesn't help Nathan — his forgery stands on its own — but it complicates the picture." She paused.
"It also means Nathan's defense attorney will argue that Nathan received the information in good faith from a family member, which could affect how the forgery charge reads to a jury."
"He still forged my signature."
"Yes.
And the camera footage, the Seattle records, and the upload logs under Celeste's credentials make that case strong.
But I want you to understand what Nathan's lawyer will try to do with your mother's involvement."
Helena looked up.
"I'll say whatever needs to be said.
In a deposition, in court, anywhere.
I'll correct what I did."
"That's not your decision alone," Miriam said.
"But it's noted."
My phone buzzed.
Nathan.
I stared at his name on the screen.
Miriam watched me.
I answered.
"Emma." His voice was controlled.
Careful in a way it had never been before — not with me.
"I think we should talk before this goes further."
"We're past talking, Nathan."
"I don't think you understand what you're about to start.
If you push this into litigation, Aurelia gets dragged through a public proceeding.
The board destabilizes.
The brand takes damage that takes years to repair.
Your mother's name comes up.
Your father's disappearance comes up." A beat.
"Is that what you want?"
"What I want," I said, "is my company back."
"It was never only yours."
"My parents built it.
My name is in the trust.
The only thing with your name on it is a document with my forged signature." I kept my voice level.
"Miriam is filing the injunction tomorrow morning.
Every Aurelia corporate record is already under a preservation order.
The police report is already filed." I paused.
"You should call your lawyer, Nathan.
Not me."
Silence.
Then: "You'll regret this."
"I already regret seven years," I said.
"What's a little more?"
I ended the call.
Miriam was already typing.
She didn't look up.
"He just confirmed he knows about the injunction.
That means someone inside my office or the court system told him.
I need to make a call."
She stepped out.
I sat alone in the room for the first time since the phone call with my father.
On the table in front of me was the printed copy of the forged proxy.
My signature at the bottom.
My name.
My hand.
Neither of them mine.
Forty minutes.
He was forty minutes away.
I didn't know yet whether I was going to be able to look at him.
But I knew one thing Nathan had not counted on when he built his plan on my family's foundation: he had never met my father.
Not the real one.
Not the man who had seen enough inside Aurelia to walk away from everything rather than be used by it.
Whatever Gabriel Mercer had discovered twelve years ago — it was still there.
And Nathan was about to find out that the ghost he had never considered was the one who had flagged his forgery before anyone else even knew to look.
The door opened.
Miriam came back in.
Her face had changed.
"The leak," she said.
"It wasn't my office."
She set her phone on the table.
On the screen was a message thread — forwarded from a contact at the courthouse.
The name on the thread was Celeste Hart.
May you like
And the person she had been messaging was not Nathan.
It was someone on the Aurelia board.
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