Chương 4
Charles’s name was attached because Lucas had partnered with him early.
But over time, Lucas had bought out most of his father-in-law’s ownership.
That had always been a sensitive subject.
Charles never admitted he hated losing control.
He just found new ways to act like he had never lost it.
“What questions?”
Samantha folded her hands.
“He wanted to know what would happen if Lucas died.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Lucas was thirty-two.”
“I know.”
“Why would they talk about that?”
Samantha did not answer immediately.
That scared me more than if she had.
“Because Lucas asked me the same thing.”
I looked at her.
“He came to my office six months ago.”
The heartbeat monitor continued beside me.
A steady rhythm.
A reminder that time was moving whether I was ready or not.
“He changed his estate plan.”
My throat felt dry.
“Why?”
Samantha looked toward the window.
Outside, people walked through the parking lot carrying coffee cups and hospital bags.
Everyone else was still living normal lives.
“My husband thought someone was trying to take what belonged to our daughter.”
Samantha looked back at me.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He thought someone was trying to take what belonged to you.”
I looked down at my hands.
The hands that had held Lucas’s when we signed the deed.
The hands that had packed his lunch every morning.
The hands that now shook because the man I trusted most had prepared for a fight I never knew was coming.
“Show me everything,” I said.
Samantha was quiet.
“Victoria.”
“Show me.”
She opened the folder.
And for the first time since Lucas died, I stopped asking how I was going to survive without him.
Because I finally understood something.
Lucas had not left me alone.
He had left me a battle plan.
She placed the first document in front of me.
It was not a will.
It was a letter.
The handwriting stopped me before I even read the first line.
Lucas’s handwriting had always looked rushed.
He wrote like his thoughts were moving faster than his hand.
The letters leaned forward, impatient and uneven.
I traced the edge of the paper.
“When did he write this?”
Samantha looked at the date.
“Five months before the accident.”
I swallowed.
“Why didn’t you give it to me before?”
“Because Lucas instructed me not to.”
The answer hurt.
Not because she had done something wrong.
Because it meant my husband had known there were things I did not know.
I unfolded the page.
Victoria,
If you are reading this, something happened that made me unable to explain this myself.
I wish I could say I am being dramatic, but you know me better than that.
I hate drama.
I hate paperwork.
I hate meetings that could have been emails.
I especially hate worrying you.
I stopped reading.
My vision blurred.
Samantha quietly looked away.
I wiped my eyes and continued.
But I need you to understand something.
I built this company with people I trusted.
Some of those people earned that trust.
Some only benefited from it.
If Charles ever tries to take control of anything connected to Baldwin-Gallagher, do not fight him emotionally.
That is what he expects.
He knows how to win arguments.
He knows how to make people feel guilty.
Do not give him that advantage.
Follow the documents.
Follow the facts.
Trust the people who protect you when nobody is watching.
And remember something.
You are not difficult because you refuse to be controlled.
Love,
Lucas.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
For a few seconds, I was not in the hospital.
I was back in our kitchen.
Lucas was standing beside the counter with flour on his shirt because he always managed to make pancakes like he was repairing a car.
He was laughing.
I was telling him he was terrible at cooking.
He was saying he was excellent and that I was simply jealous.
Then the memory disappeared.
And the hospital room returned.
“He knew,” I whispered.
Samantha nodded.
“He knew enough to prepare.”
“But not enough to stop it.”
Her expression changed.
“That is the part we need to understand.”
She slid another document toward me.
A copy of a company ownership agreement.
“Lucas changed the voting structure of Baldwin-Gallagher three months before he died.”
I stared at the page.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your father cannot simply walk in and claim control.”
“He said there were debts.”
“There are debts.”
My eyes lifted.
“Then he wasn’t lying?”
“Not exactly.”
That answer bothered me.
Samantha leaned back.
“Your father has always been dangerous because he mixes truth with manipulation.”
She pointed to the financial documents.
“The company has debt because Lucas expanded. Trucks. Warehouses. Employees. Equipment.”
“That sounds normal.”
“It is.”
She tapped another page.
“But Charles has been telling people the debt means the company is failing.”
“Why?”
“Because if people believe something is collapsing, they become easier to control.”
I thought about the folder he brought into my kitchen.
The confidence.
The certainty.
He had not come to ask.
He had come to announce.
“How many people know?”
“About the company?”
“About me.”
Samantha hesitated.
That was enough.
“Some people.”
I closed my eyes.
The thought of strangers watching my life become a family argument made my chest tighten.
“What are they saying?”
“That you are overwhelmed.”
I looked at her.
“Of course they are.”
“That you are grieving.”
“I am.”
“That you may not be capable of handling Lucas’s responsibilities.”
I laughed once.
It was a small, bitter sound.
“I’m pregnant and my husband died.”
“I know.”
“They make it sound like I disappeared.”
Samantha’s face softened.
“Some people confuse being hurt with being incapable.”
I looked back at the letter.
Lucas had written that he trusted the people who protected me when nobody was watching.
I wondered how many people had been watching.
And how many had looked away.
May you like
My phone buzzed on the table.
I reached for it.
