Chapter 2 - Thirty Percent
The lawyer's name was Adrian Cole.
Eliza had never met him.
Ethan clearly had.
That became obvious the instant Adrian approached.
“What are you doing here?” Ethan demanded.
Adrian did not answer him.
He held the red folder toward Eliza.
“I represented the attorney who created the original shareholder agreement.”
Eliza took it.
Her hands were steadier now.
“What am I looking at?”
“The agreement your husband hoped had disappeared.”
Ethan moved forward.
“This is privileged material.”
“No,” Adrian said. “It isn't.”
Lucian stood silently beside Eliza.
He did not interfere.
He did not need to.
Adrian opened the folder.
The first document was dated twelve years earlier.
Eliza remembered the week.
Ethan's company had consisted of one rented office, three folding desks, and a printer that jammed every fourteen pages.
She had written the first business plan at their kitchen table.
Adrian pointed to a clause.
“If Hartwell Strategic Holdings was sold within fifteen years of incorporation, the original thirty-percent interest assigned to you could not be transferred without independent legal counsel and notarized consent.”
“I never had independent counsel.”
“Exactly.”
Ethan scoffed.
“This is nonsense.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Then tomorrow's sale should be interesting.”
Eliza read further.
The forged transfer had not merely been unethical.
It might be legally void.
Which meant she could still own thirty percent.
Possibly more, depending on subsequent dilution and distributions.
“How much is the company worth?” she asked.
Nobody answered immediately.
That frightened her.
Marcus finally said, “The proposed transaction values it at eighty-four million.”
Eliza stopped breathing.
Thirty percent.
Her mind performed the calculation automatically.
More than twenty-five million dollars.
Ethan had left her crying beside a car while preparing to sell something partly hers for enough money to change generations of her family's lives.
“You knew,” she whispered.
Ethan's face hardened.
“I built that company.”
“So did I.”
“You left.”
“I had your child.”
“You chose that.”
Eliza stared at him.
There it was again.
His talent for converting shared decisions into her private failures.
Lucian spoke for the first time.
“The sale is suspended.”
Ethan turned.
“You can't do that.”
“I can decline to purchase stolen property.”
“Nothing was stolen.”
Adrian tapped the folder.
“That is precisely what a court may decide.”
The brunette slipped quietly toward the exit.
Eliza noticed.
“Wait.”
The woman stopped.
“What is your name?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“Vanessa.”
“Did you know he was married?”
Vanessa's silence answered.
Eliza nodded once.
“Thank you.”
Vanessa blinked.
“For what?”
“For not insulting me with another lie.”
Then Eliza turned away.
She had no energy left for a woman who had made promises to no one.
Ethan had.
Lucian guided Eliza toward a private room off the ballroom.
Marcus and Adrian followed.
Ethan tried.
Lucian's security chief blocked him.
“This concerns my company!” Ethan shouted.
Eliza looked back.
“No. Apparently it concerns mine too.”
The door closed.
For the next hour, Eliza learned how thoroughly her life had been rearranged without her knowledge.
Dividends that should have gone to her had been reinvested.
Voting rights had been reassigned.
Corporate records had been altered.
Adrian believed at least three signatures were forged.
Marcus admitted he had become suspicious months earlier after Ethan refused to let him speak directly with Eliza.
That was why he had contacted Lucian.
Lucian had ordered his legal team to review the company before acquiring it.
They found inconsistencies.
Then they found Eliza.
“That's why you invited me,” she said.
Lucian nodded.
“I wanted to meet the person Ethan kept removing from every document.”
“And you didn't warn me?”
“I didn't know whether you were involved.”
That answer was brutal.
And fair.
“You thought I might be helping him.”
“I didn't know you.”
“You do now?”
Lucian looked at her.
“A little.”
Something in his tone made her glance away.
Adrian closed the folder.
“You need your own attorney.”
“I know one.”
Everyone looked at Lucian.
Eliza shook her head.
“No.”
Lucian's eyebrow lifted.
“No?”
“You're the buyer. I need someone who doesn't work for you.”
A slow smile appeared.
“Good.”
Marcus laughed.
“She'll be fine.”
Eliza was not sure about that.
At midnight, she left the gala through the front doors.
Not the garage.
Lucian walked beside her.
Ethan waited near the steps.
“Eliza.”
She kept walking.
He followed.
“Can we please stop performing for everyone?”
She turned.
“Performing?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain it.”
His face tightened.
“You're enjoying this.”
The accusation stunned her.
Then she understood.
Ethan genuinely believed her refusal to protect him was cruelty.
“You left me outside because you were ashamed of my body.”
“I was stressed.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I made decisions for the business.”
“You slept with another woman.”
He looked around.
“Keep your voice down.”
Eliza laughed.
That finally broke something.
Not in her.
In him.
“You always do that,” she said.
“What?”
“You make your shame my responsibility.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“We have a daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You're going to destroy her family over one bad night?”
“One bad night?”
“Eliza—”
“Twelve years, Ethan. I gave you twelve years. Tonight was simply the first night I stopped explaining you to myself.”
His expression changed.
For a moment, she saw fear.
Real fear.
“You can't take Sophie.”
“This isn't about taking Sophie.”
“You'll turn her against me.”
“No. Whatever happens between us, you are her father.”
That seemed to surprise him.
She hated that it did.
Eliza walked toward the car Lucian had arranged.
Lucian remained on the steps.
He had deliberately given them distance.
Before entering the car, Eliza looked back.
“Why did you come outside tonight?”
Lucian seemed surprised by the question.
“I was leaving.”
“Before the gala ended?”
“I dislike galas.”
She smiled faintly.
“Then why host them?”
“People give me money to leave early.”
She laughed.
Again.
He watched her.
Then said, “Eliza.”
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow will be ugly.”
“I know.”
“Don't let anyone convince you that ugly means wrong.”
She studied him.
“Good night, Mr. Valente.”
“Lucian.”
“Good night, Lucian.”
She entered the car.
At home, Ethan's closet was half empty.
Apparently he had taken her request seriously.
Eliza checked Sophie's room even though Sophie was not there.
The sight of the empty bed nearly undid her.
She sat on the mattress.
Tomorrow she would have to tell her daughter that Mom and Dad were separating.
How did anyone explain betrayal to a ten-year-old without teaching her to fear love?
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Eliza almost ignored it.
Then a message appeared.
DON'T TRUST VALENTE.
A second message followed.
ASK HIM WHY YOUR INVITATION WAS NUMBER SEVENTEEN.
Eliza stared.
She had never told anyone about the number.
Another message arrived.
HE DIDN'T FIND YOU BY ACCIDENT.
Then a photograph loaded.
It showed Lucian standing beside an older woman.
The photograph appeared to be at least twenty years old.
Eliza zoomed in.
The woman wore a necklace.
Eliza stopped breathing.
She knew that necklace.
It had belonged to her mother.
Her mother, who had died when Eliza was sixteen.
A final message appeared.
YOUR MOTHER KNEW LUCIAN VALENTE BEFORE YOU DID.
Eliza's hand shook.
Then someone knocked on the front door.
Three slow knocks.
She checked the security camera.
May you like
Lucian stood outside.
And in his hand was the same necklace from the photograph.
