Chapter 14 - MY MOTHER'S SECOND LIFE
I thought I had misheard him.
"What did you say?"
My father did not look away.
"Catherine and Nathan had an affair."
The room became impossibly quiet.
Samuel stepped toward the door.
"I will give you privacy."
"No."
I stopped him.
"You knew."
He paused.
Then nodded.
"Part of it."
I laughed once.
The sound came out empty.
"Everyone knows part of my life except me."
My father flinched.
Good.
I wanted him to.
"When?"
"It began in 2007."
"You stayed married to her?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looked at the windows.
The city was beginning to lighten with dawn.
"Because marriage is more complicated than the moment someone betrays it."
I stared at him.
"That is an interesting sentence to say to me today."
He closed his eyes.
"You are right."
"Did you forgive her?"
"Eventually."
"Did you forgive Nathan?"
"No."
That answer came immediately.
"Then why did you keep him close?"
"Because by the time I learned about the affair, the financial crisis had begun."
He sat across from me.
"Blackwood Capital had exposure to mortgage securities that nearly destroyed us."
"I remember the news."
I had been in college then.
My parents had told me not to worry.
I had believed them.
Apparently, that had been the family policy long before Julian used it on me.
"Vale Meridian was even closer to collapse," my father continued.
"Julian's father had borrowed aggressively to expand."
"And Mom saved them."
"Catherine saw a way to save both companies through a separate credit platform."
"Westbridge."
"Yes."
"With Nathan."
"Yes."
My father took a breath.
"She supplied most of the capital through CBL."
"My inheritance."
"What would become your inheritance."
"And Nathan ran the platform."
"Operationally."
"Who owned it?"
"Legally, Nathan held control through a series of entities."
"Why would Mom allow that?"
Samuel answered this time.
"Regulatory separation."
He sat down again.
"Blackwood could not appear to control both the rescue financing and the companies receiving it without creating serious conflicts."
"So Nathan became the face of Westbridge."
"Privately," my father said, "Catherine retained a call right."
"Meaning she could take control back."
"Under specific circumstances."
"Such as?"
"Fraud."
My father looked at the ledger.
"Self-dealing."
"Using Westbridge against Blackwood interests."
"Yes."
"And after she died?"
He looked at me.
"The right passed to you."
Everything shifted again.
Nathan had not merely been trying to steal money from my trust.
He had been trying to remove the one person who could legally take Westbridge away from him.
"Did Julian know about the call right when he married me?"
"I do not know."
"Nathan did."
"Yes."
"So when Nathan introduced himself to Julian as a mentor, he was getting close to me through my husband."
My father nodded.
"That is one possibility."
"It is more than a possibility."
I thought of the email Selene had sent.
BLACKWOOD GIRL.
She has no idea what she owns.
Once we are married, I can get close enough to the trust.
The email had been addressed to Nathan.
The plan existed before my wedding.
"Why didn't you tell me about the call right?"
My father looked ashamed.
"Your mother asked me not to."
"Why?"
"She wanted you to live outside the war she had created."
"She created?"
"Her affair with Nathan changed him."
"Do not blame her for what he became."
My father held up one hand.
"I am not."
His voice was tired.
"Nathan was responsible for Nathan."
"Then what do you mean?"
"When Catherine ended the affair, he believed she had chosen me because of money and status."
"Had she?"
My father considered the question.
"She told me she chose our family."
"That is not the same answer."
"No."
I appreciated that he did not lie.
He continued.
"Nathan helped build Westbridge during the crisis."
"He thought that made it his."
"Exactly."
"And Mom's call right reminded him it was not."
"Yes."
"So he spent years trying to erase it."
"Yes."
I looked at the photograph of my mother's note.
Victor must never let Nathan control Westbridge.
If I am gone, Elena has the final authority.
"Where is the original call agreement?"
My father looked at the empty velvet key box.
"It was in Zurich."
"And now it is gone."
"Yes."
"Was there a copy?"
"Catherine insisted there were three originals."
Samuel sat forward.
"Three?"
"One in Zurich."
My father counted on his fingers.
"One with her personal attorney."
"Who?"
"A Swiss lawyer named Henri Beaumont."
"And the third?"
My father hesitated.
"She never told me."
For the first time that morning, hope entered the room.
"Is Beaumont alive?"
Samuel searched.
His expression fell.
"He died five years ago."
"Firm?"
"Dissolved."
"Archives?"
"We will find out."
We had fourteen hours before Orion.
There was no time to wait for a European records search.
The bridge financing still needed board approval under Nathan's new chairmanship.
He scheduled the vote for three in the afternoon.
That gave him enough time to block us.
At eleven, I held my first press conference.
I did not do it because I wanted sympathy.
I did it because Nathan and Julian had turned secrecy into their favorite weapon.
The lobby auditorium was filled with cameras.
I walked to the podium alone.
My father watched from another room.
Samuel stood offstage.
I wore a high-necked black dress that covered most of the injuries.
Not because I was ashamed of them.
Because I wanted the audience to listen to my words before they stared at what had been done to me.
The questions began before I finished my opening statement.
"Did your husband assault you?"
"Yes."
The room changed.
"Did Selene Laurent drug you?"
"She has admitted placing a sedative in my tea."
"Did Julian know?"
I looked directly into the central camera.
"He told me he did."
Reporters began shouting over one another.
"Why did you hide your ownership of CBL?"
"Because it was private."
"Did you mislead your husband?"
"My husband married a woman."
I paused.
"He apparently believed he was acquiring an asset."
That line was on every financial channel within minutes.
Another reporter stood.
"Are you trying to take control of Vale Meridian?"
"I am trying to prevent people who committed fraud from taking control of it."
"Does that include Nathan Cross?"
"Yes."
"What proof do you have?"
"Evidence has been provided to law enforcement and the board."
"Is it true your mother had a personal relationship with Mr. Cross?"
I froze.
Someone had leaked it already.
Nathan.
Of course.
The room erupted.
I could have refused to answer.
Instead, I thought about all the years secrets had been used to make decisions for me.
"Yes."
The room quieted.
"My mother had an affair with Nathan Cross many years ago."
I swallowed.
"That fact may explain resentment."
"It does not excuse fraud."
A reporter asked whether my father knew.
"Yes."
"Did he conceal it to protect his reputation?"
"He kept a painful family matter private."
"Isn't that concealment?"
I looked at the reporter.
"Privacy is not fraud."
"Forging a dead woman's signature is."
The clip spread instantly.
At twelve thirty, public sentiment began to shift.
Employees sent messages of support.
Two pension funds demanded Nathan disclose his Westbridge interests.
One institutional investor announced it would support our bridge financing.
For the first time, Nathan responded publicly.
He called my allegations a "grieving daughter's mythology."
Then he made his mistake.
He said Catherine Blackwood had never held any ownership or call right over Westbridge.
Absolute denial.
Samuel smiled when he heard it.
"Why is that good?"
I asked.
"Because if we find one authenticated copy, he cannot argue about interpretation first."
"He has committed to saying it never existed."
"Exactly."
At one forty, a call came from Switzerland.
Henri Beaumont's old firm had transferred archived paper files to a records repository after dissolution.
A search was underway.
At two ten, the repository found a box labeled CATHERINE B.
At two twenty-eight, they opened it on video with a Swiss notary present.
Inside was a sealed envelope.
My heart pounded as the camera zoomed closer.
The envelope was empty.
Someone had reached that copy too.
Nathan had spent years cleaning the trail.
At two forty-five, we had fifteen minutes before the board vote and no original agreement.
Then the Swiss archivist held up the envelope.
"There is writing inside the flap."
The notary carefully cut it open.
My mother's handwriting appeared.
If this envelope is empty, Nathan found it first.
Do not search for another contract.
Search for Elena's eighth birthday.
I stared at the screen.
My eighth birthday had been held at our old house in Connecticut.
There had been ponies.
A pink cake.
A rainstorm.
May you like
And one gift from my mother that I had not opened in almost twenty years.
A music box.
