Chapter 3 - The Brother Who Lied
"Gabriel."
My youngest brother looked at me from across the ballroom.
For a moment, nobody understood.
Then Marco took the paper.
His expression changed.
NORTH VALE CAPITAL.
SOLE MEMBER: GABRIEL ROMANO.
Gabriel didn't run.
That almost made it worse.
He simply closed his eyes.
"Explain," Marco said.
Gabriel looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
Three words.
They hurt more than I expected.
I had called five brothers because I believed they were the only people left in the world I could trust.
Now one of them appeared to own the company that had acquired forged rights to my property.
"You did this?"
"No."
"Your name is there."
"I know."
"Then explain it."
Gabriel walked toward us.
Marco blocked him.
Gabriel stopped.
"Six months ago, Damian approached me."
I looked at my husband.
Damian stared at the floor.
"He said Elena was in financial trouble," Gabriel continued. "He claimed she didn't want the family to know."
"Why would you believe him?"
"Because he showed me documents."
"What documents?"
"Medical bills. Loans. Letters with your signature."
"Forged."
"I know that now."
My anger rose.
"You didn't call me?"
Gabriel's eyes filled with shame.
"I did."
I frowned.
"No, you didn't."
"Nine times."
He pulled out his phone.
The call history was there.
My number.
Nine unanswered calls.
I had never received them.
Then I remembered Damian insisting we change phone carriers.
A "security upgrade."
Marco looked at him.
"You blocked her brothers?"
Damian said nothing.
Gabriel continued.
"Damian asked me to create North Vale as a temporary holding company. He said transferring your assets would protect them from creditors."
"And you did it?"
"I created the company. I never authorized those transfers."
"Then who did?"
"Someone obtained my electronic signature."
Aaron Pierce cleared his throat.
"That matches what my firm discovered."
Marco turned.
"You represent Gabriel?"
"No. I was hired anonymously to audit North Vale."
"By whom?"
"I don't know."
Of course.
Another invisible hand.
Another secret.
I was beginning to understand that tonight's humiliation was only the visible surface of something much larger.
I looked at Damian.
"Who planned my birthday?"
He hesitated.
"My mother."
Patricia stiffened.
"That's ridiculous."
"Was it?"
I remembered everything.
Patricia choosing the venue.
Patricia insisting the party happen at our mansion.
Patricia selecting the guest list.
Patricia inviting Vanessa.
Patricia even choosing my champagne dress.
Why?
My gaze moved to the ceiling beam.
Then the security camera.
A sick thought occurred to me.
"What was supposed to happen after I signed?"
Nobody answered.
I looked at Vanessa.
She was crying again.
"What were they going to do?"
"I don't know everything."
"Tell me what you know."
"Damian owed money."
"How much?"
She whispered, "Twenty-eight million."
The room seemed to tilt.
Damian snapped, "Enough."
Vanessa continued.
"He invested in a development project. It collapsed. Then he borrowed to cover the losses."
"From whom?"
"I never knew their names."
Patricia shouted, "Vanessa!"
But Vanessa had crossed the point of retreat.
"They wanted Elena's shares."
I looked at my husband.
"My inheritance."
He finally met my eyes.
"I was going to replace it."
"With what?"
Silence.
"You were twenty-eight million dollars in debt."
"I had a plan."
"Your plan was me."
His face twisted.
"You don't understand what pressure I was under."
Something inside me became strangely calm.
I had spent years explaining Damian to myself.
He was stressed.
He had responsibilities.
His mother manipulated him.
His business was difficult.
He drank too much.
He didn't mean what he said.
Tonight, I stopped translating cruelty into excuses.
"You tied your wife beneath a ceiling beam at her birthday party."
His eyes dropped.
"You let dozens of people watch."
"I lost control."
"No."
I shook my head.
"You had equipment prepared. You had witnesses invited. You had paperwork waiting upstairs. That isn't losing control. That's planning."
Damian said nothing.
Marco turned to Aaron.
"Can these transfers be reversed?"
"Most likely. Especially if fraud can be established."
"It can," I said.
Everyone looked at me.
I pointed toward the security camera.
"Someone recorded tonight."
Marco nodded.
"Already copied."
That was when Patricia laughed.
Softly.
Everyone turned.
She looked almost relieved.
"You people still don't understand."
Marco stared at her.
"Enlighten us."
"You think this is about Damian's debt?"
She looked at me.
"It's about Elena."
My skin went cold.
"What about me?"
Patricia walked toward the staircase.
"Your father made enemies."
"So?"
"One of them waited thirty years."
Marco's expression sharpened.
"Who?"
She smiled.
"Ask your mother."
My mother had been dead for seven years.
Marco's face went white.
Patricia knew that.
"Don't play games," he said.
"I'm not."
She looked at me.
"Your mother knew exactly what your father had done. She also knew what he stole."
"What did he steal?"
Patricia glanced at my brothers.
"Something worth much more than money."
Then the ballroom lights went out.
Someone screamed.
I heard glass break.
Marco grabbed my arm.
"Elena, down."
I crouched.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Vanessa screamed.
The front doors were open.
Patricia was gone.
So was Damian.
"Find them!" Marco shouted.
My brothers scattered.
I stood.
Then I noticed something on the marble floor.
Damian's phone.
The screen was illuminated.
A new message had arrived.
I picked it up.
ONE HOUR. BRING ELENA TO THE OLD ROMANO WAREHOUSE.
Underneath was another sentence.
OR WE TELL HER WHAT HER FATHER DID.
I looked up.
"Marco."
He read it.
For the first time that night, my oldest brother looked afraid.
Not angry.
Afraid.
"What did Dad do?"
Marco didn't answer.
"Marco."
His jaw tightened.
Finally he said, "There was something we never told you."
Before I could ask what, the mansion intercom crackled.
A woman's voice came through the speakers.
A voice I had not heard in seven years.
"Elena."
I stopped breathing.
It sounded exactly like my dead mother.
May you like
Then she said:
"Don't trust your brothers."
