Chapter 4 - THE TRUST
For three full seconds, I could not speak.
Dad seemed to realize what he had said only after the words were already between us.
I stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You absolutely should have.”
“I’m probably wrong.”
“You said Julian isn’t supposed to survive long enough to spend the trust.”
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“I don’t know anything for certain.”
“What did you hear?”
“Ethan.”
“What did you hear?”
He looked toward the elevator.
Then toward the garage entrance again.
Paranoid.
Afraid.
I had never seen my father like that.
“Two nights ago, I was at the Bennetts’ house.”
“Why?”
“Preston wanted to discuss the fund.”
“And?”
“I arrived early.”
His voice dropped.
“I heard Chloe arguing with him in the study.”
“About what?”
“Julian.”
My stomach tightened.
“What exactly did she say?”
Dad closed his eyes.
“She said she didn’t want to wait years.”
“For what?”
“He told her she wouldn’t have to.”
A chill moved through me.
“And then?”
“She asked how long.”
“How long until what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know enough to be standing in my garage.”
Dad’s face crumpled for a moment.
“He said accidents happen every day.”
The words echoed.
Accidents happen every day.
I stared at him.
“Did they know you heard?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I left before they saw me.”
“Then why are you protecting them?”
“I’m not.”
“You came here to stop an investigation.”
“Because if Preston gets exposed, your mother and I lose everything.”
I stepped back.
There it was.
The truth.
Even after hearing something that suggested Julian might be in danger, Dad’s first instinct had been to protect his money.
“Our money is all we have left.”
I stared at him.
“Julian is your son.”
“I know that.”
“Then start acting like it.”
His face hardened from shame.
“You think this is simple because you always have money.”
I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“My money?”
“Yes.”
“You have your career.”
“You have savings.”
“You have options.”
“We’re sixty-eight years old.”
“We don’t get to start over.”
I felt anger rise again.
“So you were willing to let them steal from me.”
“I didn’t know that invoice was fake until afterward.”
“But you stayed quiet.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“You liked Julian’s message yesterday.”
Dad blinked.
“What?”
“In the family group.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this.”
I stepped toward him.
“You knew the Bennetts were dangerous enough that you were scared of them.”
“You knew they had your money.”
“You knew there was something wrong with the trust.”
“And when Julian humiliated me publicly, you sided with him anyway.”
Dad had no answer.
I pressed the elevator button.
“We’re done.”
“Ethan.”
“I’m calling Thomas.”
“Who is Thomas?”
“Our general counsel.”
Dad went pale.
“Don’t.”
“Too late.”
I entered the elevator.
Dad followed.
I turned.
“Get out.”
“I need to come upstairs.”
“No.”
“We need a plan.”
“We don’t have a plan.”
“We’re family.”
I laughed.
“That line expired yesterday.”
The elevator doors closed between us.
Upstairs, I called Thomas.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, there was a long silence.
“Did your father use the exact phrase ‘accidents happen every day’?”
“He said Preston used it.”
“We need to separate firsthand from secondhand information.”
“Understood.”
“I’m contacting law enforcement.”
That gave me pause.
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
“What about Julian?”
“Do not warn him yet.”
“He could be in danger.”
“And warning him could create more.”
I hated that.
But I understood it.
Thomas continued.
“Do you have a copy of your grandmother’s trust?”
“Yes.”
“Send it.”
I did.
Twenty minutes later, he called again.
“Clause seventeen.”
I opened the document.
It concerned beneficiary distributions upon marriage.
If Julian married, he could request release of up to fifty percent of his principal.
Approximately nine hundred thousand dollars.
But there was another clause.
If a beneficiary died after marriage without children, any properly designated spouse could claim certain marital distributions already released.
I read it twice.
“Chloe can’t inherit the whole trust.”
“No.”
“Then why marry him?”
“Because once money is distributed, the trust loses control over it.”
I understood.
Get Julian married.
Have him request the maximum distribution.
Move the money.
Then if something happened to him, recovering it could become difficult.
“Would Julian request it?”
Thomas gave a dry laugh.
“Your brother borrowed one hundred thousand dollars to invest in a questionable fund.”
Point taken.
At 9:30 that night, two detectives arrived at my apartment.
Detective Laura Grant did most of the talking.
Her partner, Marcus Bell, took notes.
I told the entire story.
The wedding.
The contracts.
The fake invoice.
My parents’ investment.
Dad’s overheard conversation.
They asked whether Julian had enemies.
I almost laughed.
“Mostly creditors.”
They did not find that funny.
Grant asked, “Any life insurance?”
I froze.
“I don’t know.”
She wrote something.
“Find out.”
“How?”
“You’re his brother.”
“He currently hates me.”
“That might help.”
Before they left, Grant gave me one instruction.
“Do not accuse anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not confront Chloe.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not tell your brother we’re investigating until we tell you.”
“That part I don’t like.”
“You don’t have to.”
She stood.
“If there’s a real threat, we need people to behave normally.”
After they left, I stared at my phone.
Julian had sent another message.
You happy now?
Attached was a photo of Chloe crying.
I studied it.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect lighting.
A tissue held beneath one eye.
Even her breakdown looked curated.
I responded.
Can we talk alone tomorrow?
His reply came immediately.
No.
I tried again.
Without Chloe.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Finally.
Why?
I thought carefully.
Because you’re my brother.
He waited nearly a minute.
You didn’t act like it.
I almost threw the phone.
Instead, I typed.
Neither did you.
Nothing.
Then.
Coffee. 7 a.m. Riverside Diner.
I exhaled.
Fine.
His response made me laugh despite everything.
You really need a new word.
At 6:55 the next morning, I arrived at Riverside.
Julian was already in a booth.
He looked exhausted.
Dark circles beneath his eyes.
Unshaven.
Angry.
“You look terrible.”
“Good morning to you too.”
I sat.
A waitress poured coffee.
Neither of us spoke until she walked away.
Then Julian leaned forward.
“You destroyed Chloe’s wedding.”
“Your wedding is still happening.”
“Barely.”
“There’s food.”
“Very funny.”
“There’s music.”
“Stop.”
“There are flowers.”
“Ethan.”
“There are two hundred guests.”
His jaw tightened.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“You wanted a two-hundred-thousand-dollar fantasy.”
“It wasn’t two hundred.”
“It was headed there.”
“You offered.”
“I offered to help.”
“You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Act superior.”
I almost smiled.
“That’s why you threw me out?”
“You embarrassed Chloe.”
“When?”
“At the tasting.”
I frowned.
“What did I do at the tasting?”
“You questioned every price.”
“I was paying.”
“You called the champagne wall ridiculous.”
“It was eleven thousand dollars.”
“You laughed.”
“I thought it was a joke.”
Julian looked away.
Suddenly, I understood.
“This was Chloe’s idea?”
“What?”
“Uninviting me.”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
“Julian.”
“She was upset.”
“So she told you to throw me out.”
“She said if you came, you’d ruin the mood.”
“And you agreed.”
He looked ashamed for perhaps half a second.
Then anger returned.
“You’re not innocent.”
“I never claimed to be.”
I leaned forward.
“But I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Have you taken out life insurance recently?”
His face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
“Why?”
“Answer.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Did Chloe ask you to?”
He stared at me.
“How do you know?”
My stomach dropped.
“How much?”
He hesitated.
“Two million.”
I gripped my coffee cup.
“Beneficiary?”
“Chloe.”
Of course.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“Why?”
“She said married couples should protect each other.”
“You weren’t married.”
“We were getting married.”
I took a slow breath.
“Did you already submit paperwork to take money from Grandma’s trust?”
Julian stared.
Now he was suspicious.
“Dad told you.”
“How much?”
“Why do you care?”
“How much?”
“Nine hundred thousand.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“Where does it go after the wedding?”
“My account.”
“Which account?”
“A joint account.”
“With Chloe?”
“Yes.”
I looked at my brother.
For once, I saw past the arrogance.
Past the resentment.
Past the years of family dynamics.
I saw a man being maneuvered.
“Cancel the distribution.”
Julian laughed.
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You’re drowning in debt.”
“That money fixes everything.”
“No.”
“It fixes your creditors.”
“It fixes the wedding bills.”
“It fixes the investment loan.”
“It fixes everything.”
“That’s exactly why Chloe wants it.”
His face hardened.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I could not tell him about the investigation.
Not directly.
So I tried another route.
“Have you verified your investment with Preston?”
Silence.
That told me enough.
“Julian.”
“It’s being audited.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you seen a current statement?”
“He explained the delay.”
“What explanation?”
“Technical migration.”
I laughed.
“What?”
“Listen to yourself.”
“Shut up.”
“Where is your hundred thousand?”
“It’s invested.”
“Where?”
“Bennett fund.”
“In what?”
“Hospitality.”
“Which properties?”
He said nothing.
I leaned closer.
“You don’t know.”
He stood.
“This was a mistake.”
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Julian.”
He grabbed his coat.
“Chloe was right.”
“About what?”
“You’re jealous.”
I stared at him.
“Of you?”
His face flushed.
“You think you’re better than everyone.”
“No.”
I stood too.
“But I think you’re in trouble.”
“I’m getting married in four days.”
“Exactly.”
He stepped away.
Then I said the only thing I knew might stop him.
“Ask Chloe why her father charged me eighteen thousand seven hundred fifty dollars for a tent that doesn’t exist.”
Julian froze.
Slowly, he turned.
“What?”
I pulled up the invoice.
Placed my phone on the table.
He looked at it.
Then at me.
“What do you mean it doesn’t exist?”
“Cedar Grove confirmed there is no tent.”
His anger disappeared.
Not completely.
Enough.
“Maybe it was canceled.”
“No.”
“Maybe it’s for another service.”
“No.”
He grabbed my phone and read the invoice.
I watched his face.
Then something happened I had never expected.
Julian looked afraid.
“Where did you get this?”
“You sent it to me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“I forwarded it.”
“From whom?”
“Chloe.”
There it was.
I kept my voice calm.
“What did she tell you?”
“That it was a venue requirement.”
“It wasn’t.”
He stared at the invoice again.
Then whispered, “Oh God.”
“What?”
He looked toward the windows.
“Nothing.”
“Julian.”
“Nothing.”
He handed back my phone.
“I have to go.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I said nothing.”
He hurried toward the door.
I followed him outside.
“Julian.”
He turned sharply.
“Stay out of this.”
“You came here to talk.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
He looked genuinely terrified now.
Then his phone rang.
Chloe.
Her name lit the screen.
Julian rejected the call.
That alone told me everything.
“She knows you’re here?”
“No.”
“Then how is she calling at exactly this moment?”
He stared at the phone.
It rang again.
His eyes lifted to mine.
May you like
And for the first time in my life, my younger brother whispered something I never expected to hear.
“I think she tracks my location.”
