Chapter 7 - THE PAPER THAT CALLED ME INSANE
Dominic stared at his own name as though someone else had put it there.
Maybe someone had.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind.
The second was that I no longer knew when giving my husband the benefit of the doubt became stupidity.
“I didn’t sign that.”
His voice was firm.
My father said nothing.
Evelyn enlarged the document.
“It is digitally notarized.”
“Then it’s forged.”
“Possibly.”
“Definitely.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Vivienne, I swear.”
I wanted to believe him.
That was the cruelest part.
Three hours earlier, I would have believed him instantly.
Now belief had become something he had to earn with evidence.
Detective Morales moved closer.
“What does the statement say?”
Evelyn read silently for several seconds.
Then she looked at me.
“You may not want this read aloud.”
“I do.”
“Vivienne.”
“Read it.”
She hesitated.
Then she began.
The statement claimed I had experienced severe mood swings.
It said I had become paranoid during pregnancy.
It described episodes of confusion.
It claimed I forgot appointments and misplaced valuables.
The final paragraph stated that Dominic feared I might make reckless financial decisions that endangered myself and our unborn child.
Every sentence was carefully written.
Clinical enough to sound believable.
Personal enough to sound like a husband begging for help.
Chloe looked at her brother.
“Did you tell Malcolm any of that?”
“No.”
“Did you ever say she was emotional?”
Dominic looked toward me.
My heart sank.
“Answer.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I may have said pregnancy had been hard.”
“In what context?”
“To Malcolm.”
Of course.
“When?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“What exactly did you say?”
“He asked why you weren’t involved in the development discussions.”
“And?”
“I said you didn’t want business stress.”
“That is not the same as saying I’m mentally incompetent.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“I said you’d been tired.”
My father muttered something under his breath.
Dominic looked at me again.
“I never said you were unstable.”
Eleanor shifted in her chair.
Too quickly.
I saw it.
So did my father.
“What?”
He asked.
Eleanor looked at him.
“What what?”
“You reacted.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You know something about the medical filing.”
“I don’t.”
I stepped closer.
“Eleanor.”
She stared at me.
“Did Malcolm talk to you about my pregnancy?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
Silence.
I knew.
“Did you give him information about me?”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened.
“General information.”
Dominic looked furious.
“What information?”
“She was tired.”
“Mom.”
“She complained about nausea.”
“I never complained to you about nausea.”
Eleanor looked toward me.
“You left Thanksgiving early.”
“I was pregnant.”
“You were also emotional.”
My father’s voice turned cold.
“Choose your next sentence carefully.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes.
“This is absurd.”
“No.”
I moved closer.
“This is how they built it.”
Everyone looked at me.
“Small pieces.”
I pointed toward the filing.
“Things that sound harmless separately.”
Dominic saying I was tired.
Eleanor saying I left dinner early.
Maybe Chloe saying I was quiet.
Someone combining all of it until a stranger reading the document saw illness instead of pregnancy.
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“That is exactly how competency petitions are often constructed.”
My skin crawled.
“Who is the doctor?”
She scrolled.
“Dr. Alan Merrick.”
I frowned.
“I don’t know him.”
Dominic did.
His face changed.
“He works at St. Vincent.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“He consulted on my father’s cardiac care.”
Eleanor went pale.
My father noticed.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Evelyn was already searching.
“Alan Merrick.”
She scanned results.
“Internal medicine.”
“Not psychiatry?”
“No.”
I laughed once.
It sounded strange.
“So an internist who has never treated me certified me psychiatrically incompetent.”
“That alone may invalidate it.”
“May?”
“Courts can still issue temporary protective orders if supporting documentation appears credible.”
“How long?”
“Days.”
My father turned toward her.
“Can we stop it tonight?”
“I’ll try.”
I looked at the filing.
“What does it give them if approved?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Temporary control of your trust assets would move to the designated emergency fiduciary.”
“Who is that?”
She scrolled.
Then stopped.
Nobody needed to ask.
Her face said enough.
“Malcolm?”
My father guessed.
“No.”
Evelyn looked toward Dominic.
“Your husband.”
The room went dead.
Dominic stepped back.
“No.”
Evelyn turned the screen toward him.
His name appeared clearly.
Dominic James Hartwell.
Temporary fiduciary.
My father’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Did you know about this?”
“No.”
“Your name is on two documents.”
“I didn’t sign either.”
“Then someone wanted control to appear legitimate through you.”
Detective Morales nodded.
“That would explain why Mr. Pierce cultivated him.”
Dominic looked at me.
“I thought he wanted a development partnership.”
“He wanted you.”
The words came from my father.
Dominic turned.
My father continued.
“A financially struggling husband married to my daughter.”
“I’m not financially struggling.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Are you sure?”
Dominic stared.
“What does that mean?”
She opened another file.
“Hartwell Development has six active liens.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
Dominic turned toward her.
“What?”
Evelyn continued.
“Three commercial loans are more than ninety days delinquent.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Two subcontractors filed nonpayment claims last month.”
Dominic looked at his mother.
“You said those were resolved.”
“They are being handled.”
“By whom?”
Eleanor did not answer.
Evelyn looked down.
“Hartwell Development is approximately eighteen-point-seven million dollars in debt.”
Chloe stared at her mother.
“Eighteen million?”
Eleanor snapped,
“Asset value is not the same as cash flow.”
Dominic looked stunned.
“You told me we were six million down.”
“We have receivables.”
“How much?”
“That is not relevant.”
“It is when you lied to me by twelve million dollars.”
Nathan leaned against the wall.
He looked at Chloe.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed.
“The wedding cost almost nine hundred thousand dollars.”
Chloe flushed.
“That was separate.”
“Separate from eighteen million in debt?”
“My mother said it was covered.”
“By whom?”
Chloe looked at Eleanor.
Eleanor’s lips tightened.
Nathan understood.
“You paid for this wedding with borrowed money.”
“It was an investment in relationships.”
He stared at her.
“It was flowers.”
Chloe looked humiliated.
For once, status had turned against her.
All the imported roses.
The crystal favors.
The couture gown.
The twelve-piece orchestra.
Everything she had used to prove superiority had been purchased by a family barely keeping its company alive.
My modest maternity dress suddenly seemed like the only honest thing in the room.
Dominic sat down.
“When did the debt get that bad?”
Eleanor spoke quietly.
“Last year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You had enough pressure.”
“I’m president of the company.”
“On paper.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
“What does that mean?”
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly.
“Your father left controlling voting authority to me.”
“I know that.”
“You run projects.”
“I run the company.”
“You run operations.”
Dominic stood.
“You let me believe I was making decisions.”
“You were.”
“Were Malcolm’s discussions with me real?”
Silence.
“Mom.”
Eleanor looked away.
Dominic’s voice broke.
“Did you send him to me?”
“I introduced the opportunity.”
His face changed.
“How?”
“Malcolm wanted access.”
“To what?”
She looked at me.
Everything clicked.
“To Vivienne.”
Eleanor’s shoulders dropped.
“I didn’t know how far he would go.”
My father stepped toward her.
“You used your son to get to my daughter.”
“No.”
“You knew Malcolm wanted access to her trust.”
“He said the trust could support a legitimate joint venture.”
“There was never a legitimate joint venture.”
“I know that now.”
“When did you know?”
Eleanor did not answer.
My father’s anger rose.
“When did you know?”
“Last week.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“By meeting him last night.”
“Yes.”
“What was in the envelope?”
Eleanor looked down.
“Cash.”
Chloe stared.
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
My father’s eyes narrowed.
“For what?”
“I wanted Peter to get documents back.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“Which documents?”
“Copies Malcolm had.”
“Of what?”
“Vivienne’s trust.”
My father’s face hardened.
“You paid your driver fifty thousand dollars to retrieve stolen trust documents.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call police?”
“Because Malcolm had documents implicating Dominic.”
Dominic’s voice became hollow.
“In what?”
“The development agreement.”
“That isn’t criminal.”
“He altered it.”
“How?”
Eleanor looked at her son.
“He added provisions indicating you knowingly intended to use Vivienne’s trust without her consent.”
Dominic stared at her.
“I didn’t sign that.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you keep working with him?”
“Because he said he would destroy you.”
Dominic laughed in disbelief.
“So you helped him?”
“I was buying time.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You were protecting yourself.”
Eleanor’s face tightened.
“You think everything I did was for me?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Neither did I.
Eleanor looked at me.
“I never wanted you arrested.”
I stared at her.
“You ripped my dress apart.”
“That was Chloe’s stupidity.”
Chloe recoiled.
“You joined in.”
“I was angry.”
“You humiliated me.”
“Yes.”
At least she admitted it.
Then she added,
“But the ring in your car was not part of our plan.”
“Our plan.”
I repeated the words.
Eleanor closed her eyes.
I looked at Morales.
“You heard that?”
“Yes.”
I turned back to Eleanor.
“What exactly was your plan?”
Her voice became quiet.
“To make you leave.”
Dominic stared.
“What?”
“She wanted Vivienne humiliated.”
Chloe whispered,
“Mom.”
Eleanor kept looking at me.
“You were supposed to walk out.”
My blood went cold.
“Why?”
“Because Malcolm needed Dominic alone.”
My father stepped closer.
“For what?”
Eleanor’s face changed.
“He needed him to sign one final document.”
Dominic’s eyes widened.
“What document?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where?”
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“The executive suite.”
Marcus immediately spoke into his radio.
“Secure executive floors.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“It may already be too late.”
My father stared.
“What do you mean?”
She looked at the clock.
“Malcolm expected Vivienne to leave the reception by nine fifteen.”
I checked the time.
9:42.
Eleanor continued.
“Dominic was supposed to receive a call telling him there was an emergency involving Hartwell Development.”
Dominic pulled out his phone.
Three missed calls.
All from a blocked number.
His face went pale.
“He called.”
My father looked toward Marcus.
Marcus was already ordering officers upstairs.
Then Dominic’s phone rang again.
Blocked number.
Nobody moved.
Detective Morales nodded.
“Answer it.”
Dominic put the call on speaker.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice came through.
Calm.
Measured.
Familiar.
“Dominic.”
Malcolm Pierce.
My father’s face hardened.
Dominic said,
“Where are you?”
Malcolm ignored the question.
“Your wife made this unnecessarily complicated.”
My skin went cold.
Dominic looked at me.
“What do you want?”
“A signature.”
“On what?”
“The document we discussed.”
“We didn’t discuss another document.”
A soft laugh.
“Your mother did.”
Eleanor froze.
Malcolm continued.
“Bring the principal access card to Suite 4401.”
My father looked at Marcus.
Security began moving.
Dominic asked,
“And if I don’t?”
The line went quiet.
Then Malcolm answered.
“Then Richard Sterling should check on the location of his youngest grandson.”
My father’s face went blank.
I stared at him.
“You don’t have a grandson.”
My father did not answer.
Malcolm laughed softly through the phone.
“Oh, Vivienne.”
May you like
Then he said the sentence that changed everything again.
“Your father has been keeping secrets from you too.”
