Chương 4
He was sixty-two, silver-haired, and permanently dressed as if an emergency board meeting might break out in an elevator.
He stopped beside the bed.
“I called you three times yesterday.”
“I was arranging orchids.”
“I know.”
“You sound judgmental.”
“I am judgmental.”
He set his bag down.
Then his face softened.
“How are you?”
“Ask me after someone explains why my apartment apparently has a criminal side business.”
Jonathan pulled the visitor chair closer.
“I’m sorry, Claire.”
That frightened me more than his usual irritation.
Jonathan did not apologize unless somebody had died or the IRS was involved.
“What happened?”
“Your title-monitoring service flagged an electronic deed filing yesterday morning.”
“I thought those alerts were basically spam.”
“You thought smoke detectors were basically decorative until your toaster caught fire.”
“My toaster did not catch fire.”
“Your kitchen ceiling disagreed.”
Maya raised one hand.
“I was there.”
I glared at both of them.
Jonathan opened his laptop.
“I contacted the title company, then the county clerk’s office, then federal investigators because the notary information matched an active fraud pattern.”
“So Reeves came because of you.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“I mean why didn’t you send something terrifying like CALL ME YOUR HOUSE IS BEING STOLEN?”
“Because I did not know your house was being stolen.”
He turned the laptop toward me.
The screen displayed a series of filings.
“I knew someone had attempted to change ownership.”
The grantee was EMC Residential Holdings LLC.
The address listed for the company was a virtual office in Delaware.
The authorized representative was a name I didn’t recognize.
Martin Vale.
“Who is that?”
“We don’t know yet.”
My phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Mom.
I let it ring.
Jonathan watched the screen light up.
He said nothing.
That was one of his better qualities.
When the call stopped, a voicemail notification appeared.
Then Dad called.
I declined it.
“Show me the loan.”
Jonathan’s mouth tightened.
“That part gets worse.”
“Of course it does.”
He clicked another document.
The bridge lender was a private finance company called Hudson Meridian Capital.
The loan amount was six million dollars.
The borrower was another LLC.
The guarantor was Claire Morgan.
My name sat there in black letters with the quiet confidence of a lie that expected paperwork to protect it.
“What collateral?”
“The penthouse.”
“I own it outright.”
“That makes it attractive collateral.”
“I mean how could they pledge it without confirming with me?”
“They believed they had.”
He pulled up an identity verification page.
A photocopy of my driver’s license appeared.
So did a passport scan.
My throat tightened.
“That passport copy came from my house.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
I had renewed my passport the previous year.
The old one and several photocopies sat in a locked file drawer in my study.
Jonathan looked at me carefully.
“Who has access?”
“Me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I hated him a little for being right.
“Maya has the apartment code.”
“Correct,” Maya said.
“My housekeeper.”
“Anyone else?”
I stared at the screen.
“My parents have had it.”
Jonathan waited.
“Ethan knew it too.”
The room went quiet.
I could suddenly see my study as it had looked three weeks earlier when Ethan came over to pick up a watch Dad had left after dinner.
He had disappeared down the hallway for maybe ten minutes.
When he came back, he said he had used the bathroom.
I had been on a conference call.
I hadn’t questioned it.
“Claire?”
Jonathan’s voice pulled me back.
“Ethan was alone in my apartment three weeks ago.”
Maya stopped moving.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
I rubbed my thumb against the hospital blanket.
“Ten minutes, maybe fifteen.”
Jonathan made a note.
“Tell Reeves.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time a text from Mom filled the screen.
Your brother is extremely upset and Chloe is talking about postponing the wedding.
I stared at it until the words blurred.
No mention of my daughter.
No mention of whether I was still pregnant.
No question about the fall.
Something hard settled inside me.
Not anger exactly.
Anger was hotter.
This felt cleaner.
I typed back one sentence.
Do not come to the hospital.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Maya leaned over.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
“That must have hurt.”
“It did.”
Jonathan closed the laptop halfway.
“There’s another reason I came in person.”
I looked at him.
He removed a thin folder from his bag.
Unlike Ethan’s papers, these had tabs and handwritten notes.
“Three months ago, Ethan contacted my office.”
My stomach dropped.
“About what?”
“He asked how your estate was structured.”
Maya said, “Oh, hell.”
Jonathan continued carefully.
“He framed it as concern because you were pregnant and unmarried.”
“He called you?”
“My assistant took the first call.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he’s your brother, and he didn’t have access to anything confidential.”
Jonathan’s jaw tightened.
“I told him I would not discuss your estate.”
“What did he ask?”
“Whether the penthouse was held personally or through a trust.”
A contraction started.
I gripped the rail.
Nobody spoke until it passed.
Jonathan handed me a printed email.
Ethan’s name appeared at the top.
Thanks for clarifying.
Just trying to make sure the baby is protected if anything happens to Claire.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
“He never asked me about my estate.”
Jonathan nodded.
“He also asked who would control your assets if you became incapacitated.”
Maya stood abruptly.
The visitor chair scraped the floor.
“No.”
I looked at her.
She had gone pale.
“What?”
“Claire, what did he say yesterday?”
“About what?”
“When you wouldn’t sign.”
I tried to remember through exhaustion.
Ethan had shouted.
Mom had shouted.
Dad had kept telling everyone to calm down while doing absolutely nothing calming.
Then Ethan had stepped toward me.
Sign it, Claire.
Back away.
After that, the floor.
May you like
“He said I was making him do this.”
Maya shook her head.
