“From whom?”
“My mother. Most are notes she wrote to me while I was at school. A few are older. I never read all of them.”
“Why not?”
Evelyn looked down at her hands.
“Because every time I opened the box, I could still smell her perfume.”
The room became quiet.
Helen’s face softened for half a second.
Then it was gone.
Nathaniel placed a document on the table.
“This authorizes us to retrieve your property. However, there is a complication.”
“What complication?”
“The Greenwich estate is secured through a loan held by Voss Meridian. Harper Maritime has missed two internal covenant requirements. We could declare default immediately.”
“And take the house?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn imagined Margaret waking to lawyers at the door.
Grant demanding explanations.
Savannah rushing through hallways in cream cashmere.
It would be satisfying.
Too satisfying.
Quick revenge was often expensive.
“I don’t want the house,” Evelyn said.
Nathaniel waited.
“I want the records inside it.”
He nodded.
“Then we will not declare default.”
“Not yet.”
A hotel employee delivered dry clothing.
Evelyn showered, changed into black trousers and a gray sweater, then sat at the dining table with Nathaniel until nearly four in the morning.
He explained the structure of Voss Meridian.
August’s direct voting shares gave Evelyn fifty-three percent control.
Trusts established in her name held additional nonvoting assets.
Several properties were hers personally, including a townhouse on East Seventy-Third Street, a ranch in Montana, a coastal property in Maine, and an apartment in Paris.
The estimated liquid value of the estate exceeded one billion dollars.
The total enterprise value was much larger.
Evelyn listened without interruption.
She had expected shock to arrive as joy.
It did not.
It felt like being handed the controls to an aircraft after learning the pilot had died and someone onboard wanted the plane to crash.
“Who opposes my appointment?” she asked.
“Martin Kessler,” Nathaniel said. “Possibly two directors. Perhaps more.”
“And Grant?”
“He has been lobbying Voss Meridian to approve a merger between Harper Maritime and Cole Atlantic Logistics.”
Savannah’s father owned Cole Atlantic.
The affair was not only romantic.
It was corporate.
“What would the merger do?”
Nathaniel slid a report toward her.
“Transfer valuable port access agreements from Harper Maritime into a new entity controlled by the Cole family. Voss Meridian would absorb most of Harper Maritime’s debt while losing practical control of the routes.”
“Why would Kessler support that?”
“We intend to ask him Monday.”
Evelyn read the summary.
Grant would receive a twelve-percent stake in the new company.
Charles would receive three percent.
Margaret’s family trust would receive two.
Savannah would serve as vice chair.
The deal would make Grant wealthy enough to stop needing Evelyn.
At least, that was what he believed.
“Did Grant know August was dying?” she asked.
Nathaniel hesitated.
“We believe Kessler knew.”
“So tonight was timed.”
“Possibly.”
“They wanted the divorce signed before I learned about the inheritance.”
“That would be logical.”
Evelyn looked at the settlement agreement photographed on Nathaniel’s tablet.
The waiver of “all business interests presently known or subsequently discovered.”
Grant had not simply ended their marriage.
He had tried to separate her from an inheritance he suspected existed.
But the agreement had a problem.
Several, in fact.
No independent counsel.
No disclosure.
Coercive circumstances.
And a clause Grant had included to protect himself from claims involving hidden assets could become evidence that he expected hidden assets to emerge.
Evelyn placed the report down.
“Do not challenge the divorce papers yet.”
Nathaniel studied her.
“May I ask why?”
“I want Grant to believe they work.”
“Dangerous.”
“Useful.”
Helen folded her arms.
“He may try to move faster.”
“Good.”
Nathaniel’s smile returned.
“You intend to let him complete the attempted fraud.”
“I intend to let him explain it under oath.”
At seven in the morning, Evelyn’s phone began vibrating.
Grant.
She watched it ring.
Then a text appeared.
You took the Aston Martin registration photo. Delete it now.
A second message followed.
This doesn’t have to become hostile.
Then Margaret wrote.
Your behavior last night was disappointing. Grant has agreed to be generous. Do not repay his compassion with pettiness.
Lauren sent a different kind of message.
Hey, I know things got weird. Are you still able to transfer the rest of the boutique money Friday? Payroll is due.
Evelyn read that one twice.
Then she typed:
No.
Lauren responded immediately.
No as in not Friday? Monday works.
Evelyn set the phone down.
Helen looked amused.
“You could tell her.”
“Why ruin breakfast?”
At eight fifteen, a hotel server brought coffee, eggs, fruit, and warm pastries.
Evelyn had taken one bite when her banking application sent an alert.