Chapter 7 - THE FORTY-EIGHT MILLION DOLLAR WIFE
Lydia Bennett had always looked perfect.
That was the first thing everyone noticed about her.
Perfect blonde hair.
Perfect dresses.
Perfect smile.
She and Preston had been married for eight years.
My mother adored her.
Not loved.
Adored.
There was a difference.
Lydia remembered anniversaries.
Hosted charity luncheons.
Sent handwritten notes.
Never contradicted my father at dinner.
She gave my parents the daughter-in-law I had apparently failed to become as a daughter.
I had never hated Lydia.
But I had never trusted her either.
At 2:15 that afternoon, she arrived at the hospital.
This time, security searched her bag.
She was furious.
“I’m not a criminal.”
Alistair stood near the door.
“No one said you were.”
“This is humiliating.”
I looked at her.
“Try having a psychiatrist sent into your labor room.”
Her face changed.
“You know.”
That reaction told me everything.
“You knew about Harlan.”
Lydia closed her eyes.
Preston stood beside the window.
He had returned from headquarters after the board meeting collapsed.
He looked toward his wife.
“Tell them.”
Lydia’s eyes snapped toward him.
“You promised.”
“That promise ended when someone used my credentials.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked at me.
“Can we do this privately?”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
Her expression hardened.
I almost admired how quickly the polished sister-in-law disappeared.
Fine.
At least now we were meeting the real person.
Lydia sat.
“The forty-eight million dollars was not for me.”
My mother spoke from the corner.
“It was going into a trust held in my name.”
“Yes.”
“For Preston.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lydia looked at my brother.
He said nothing.
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
My mother frowned.
“What?”
“Your son still can’t say it.”
Preston’s jaw tightened.
“Lydia.”
“No.”
She turned toward me.
“Bennett Global isn’t only short one hundred and eighty million.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Closer to three hundred.”
Preston closed his eyes.
I stared at him.
“You lied to me.”
“I gave you the confirmed number.”
“You gave me half the truth.”
“It was all I could verify.”
Lydia laughed.
“You’ve been verifying it for a year.”
Preston turned.
“Enough.”
“No.”
She stood.
“I’m tired of being blamed because none of you can admit what Richard did.”
My mother’s voice hardened.
“What did Richard do?”
Lydia looked at her.
“He borrowed against the pension reserve.”
The room went silent.
I felt cold from my scalp to my fingertips.
“No.”
Lydia nodded.
“Indirectly.”
Daniel immediately opened his laptop.
“Explain.”
“There’s a captive investment vehicle.”
“What name?”
“Bennett Strategic Yield Fund.”
I recognized it.
The employee retirement plan held investments in it.
“How much?”
Lydia swallowed.
“Ninety-six million.”
I stared at Preston.
“You knew?”
“Not until three weeks ago.”
“Dad used employee retirement money?”
“It’s structured as a loan.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
My anger sharpened.
“Why didn’t you tell the board?”
“I was collecting evidence.”
“You had three weeks.”
“I needed proof.”
“You had me.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“I’m a director.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I laughed.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You were trying to decide whether protecting me would cost you your inheritance.”
He looked as though I had slapped him.
Good.
Lydia sat again.
“The forty-eight million was supposed to cover part of the pension exposure.”
My mother frowned.
“Using my trust?”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized that?”
“Richard.”
“He has no authority over my trust.”
Lydia looked toward her.
“Apparently he does.”
My mother went still.
Daniel looked up.
“We’ll verify that.”
I stared at Lydia.
“Why exactly forty-eight million?”
“Because that is the amount required before quarter end to prevent an external auditor from triggering a going-concern disclosure.”
My stomach sank.
“If Bennett Global discloses substantial doubt…”
“The stock price collapses.”
Preston finished.
“And Northstar acquires more leverage.”
I looked at him.
“So Dad used Mom’s trust to patch the pension problem long enough to complete Northstar financing.”
“Yes.”
“Why is the trust connected to you?”
Preston hesitated.
Lydia answered.
“Because Margaret’s father established it to protect Preston from Richard.”
My mother stared at her.
“You knew more about my trust than I did.”
Lydia gave a sad smile.
“Your husband made sure of that.”
My mother’s face hardened.
“Why?”
“Because he needed Preston’s consent.”
“For what?”
Lydia looked toward my brother.
Preston became very still.
I felt another secret approaching.
“What consent?”
Preston spoke quietly.
“To pledge the trust as collateral.”
My mother stood so quickly the chair tipped backward.
“You did what?”
“Mom.”
“You pledged my trust?”
“It was for the company.”
“It was not yours.”
“I’m the beneficiary.”
“You are not the trustee.”
Preston’s face tightened.
“Dad said the amendment made me co-trustee.”
“What amendment?”
Silence.
My mother’s expression changed.
She looked toward Daniel.
“Find it.”
He was already searching.
Lydia folded her arms.
“You’re all looking at the wrong crime.”
Daniel looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“The trust collateral isn’t the biggest problem.”
“Then what is?”
She looked at me.
“Northstar.”
I waited.
“Northstar is not an independent investor.”
Alistair’s posture changed.
“Who controls it?”
Lydia looked directly at him.
“Someone who hates you.”
The room became silent.
Alistair’s face revealed nothing.
“Name.”
“Julian Mercer.”
Even I knew that name.
Mercer Capital.
Private equity.
Aggressive acquisitions.
A reputation for buying distressed companies, splitting them apart, selling assets, and moving on.
Alistair and Julian Mercer had competed for companies for more than a decade.
The business press loved calling them rivals.
Alistair hated the term.
“Rival implies equality,” he had once told me.
I thought he was joking.
Now his face was deadly serious.
“Northstar is Mercer?”
Lydia nodded.
“Through three holding companies.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I met him.”
Preston shot toward her.
“You what?”
She didn’t flinch.
“Six months ago.”
“You met Julian Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because someone had to understand what your father was doing.”
Preston looked stunned.
Lydia turned toward me.
“Richard wanted Northstar money.”
“Why would Mercer hide behind Northstar?”
“Because Sanders-controlled companies represent almost eighteen percent of Bennett Global revenue.”
I glanced at Alistair.
He nodded.
“That’s approximately correct across affiliates.”
Lydia continued.
“If Mercer publicly attempted to take control of Bennett, Alistair could shift supply contracts before the acquisition closed.”
“So he needed secrecy.”
“Yes.”
Alistair folded his arms.
“What does Mercer want?”
Lydia smiled without humor.
“Your contracts.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“He can’t force them.”
“He doesn’t need to.”
“What does that mean?”
“He intends to acquire the plants that manufacture your proprietary components.”
Alistair went still.
I understood.
Bennett Global produced specialized components for several Sanders companies.
Switching suppliers could take months.
Maybe longer.
If Mercer controlled the plants, he could pressure Alistair.
“Why would Dad agree?”
“Because Mercer promised to keep him as chairman.”
I laughed bitterly.
Of course.
My father would sell half the company if he could keep the title on his door.
Lydia continued.
“Mercer also promised Preston would become CEO.”
I looked toward my brother.
He appeared genuinely shocked.
“I didn’t know.”
Lydia laughed.
“That was the whole point.”
“Why?”
“Richard needed you compliant.”
“So he dangled the job.”
“Yes.”
Preston looked sick.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
I looked at Lydia.
“You said you met Mercer.”
“Yes.”
“What did he offer you?”
She went silent.
Preston closed his eyes.
“There it is.”
“What?” I asked.
He laughed bitterly.
“The real reason.”
Lydia looked furious.
“You don’t know anything.”
“Then tell her.”
She stared at him.
He continued.
“Tell Claire why you were digging into the trust.”
Lydia’s face changed.
I looked between them.
“What is going on?”
Preston looked at me.
“Lydia wants a divorce.”
That surprised me.
“What?”
“She filed papers six weeks ago.”
I stared at her.
She looked away.
“No one knows,” Preston said.
“Why not?”
“We paused it.”
“Why?”
Lydia answered.
“Because if I divorced him before the Northstar deal closed, Richard threatened to destroy me.”
My mother frowned.
“How?”
“He had evidence of my affair.”
Preston flinched.
Even now.
Even though he clearly knew.
I looked at Lydia.
“You were having an affair.”
“Yes.”
“With whom?”
She hesitated.
Then spoke.
“Marcus Lane.”
The CTO.
The man whose department could have mirrored my phone.
Everything clicked.
Preston looked toward the floor.
The betrayal in his face was raw.
Lydia continued.
“Marcus had access to the technical records.”
“Did he use Preston’s credentials?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lydia.”
“I swear.”
“Did you tell Marcus about the plan?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him my passcode?”
“No.”
“Did he know Dad wanted my signature?”
“Yes.”
My blood went cold.
Alistair stepped forward.
“Where is Marcus?”
Lydia shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel looked at his phone.
“His Bennett access badge was used this morning.”
“At headquarters?”
“No.”
Daniel frowned.
“At Newark Liberty.”
My pulse jumped.
“He left?”
“We’re checking.”
Lydia’s phone vibrated.
She glanced down.
Her face went white.
“What?” Preston asked.
She didn’t answer.
He reached toward her.
She pulled away.
“What is it?”
Lydia looked at me.
“I just got a message from Marcus.”
“Read it.”
Her hand trembled.
She swallowed.
“He says Richard knows I talked.”
The room became still.
“What else?”
She stared at the screen.
Then her eyes lifted slowly toward my mother.
“He says, ‘Tell Margaret to check the blue safe before Richard gets home.’”
My mother froze.
“The blue safe?”
I had never heard of it.
She had.
Her face drained of color.
“What is it?” I asked.
She stood.
“There’s a safe in the Connecticut house.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know something.”
My mother grabbed her handbag.
“Years ago, your father told me never to open it.”
I stared.
“And you listened?”
Her expression hardened.
“For thirty years.”
She looked toward the door.
“Apparently that was long enough.”
Alistair stood.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“This isn’t a debate.”
My mother glared.
I almost smiled despite everything.
“Get used to him.”
She looked at me.
For the first time, something that resembled dark amusement appeared in her eyes.
Then her phone rang.
Richard Bennett.
She stared at the screen.
Nobody spoke.
She answered.
“Richard.”
We could hear my father shouting through the phone.
My mother’s face changed.
“What do you mean?”
Another pause.
“When?”
She looked at me.
Then Alistair.
“Why would police be there?”
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
My mother ended the call.
For several seconds, she simply stood.
Then she said,
“The Connecticut house was broken into an hour ago.”
I stared.
“The safe?”
May you like
She nodded slowly.
“Gone.”
