Chapter 8 - My Father’s Warning
My father answered before the first ring finished.
“Elena?”
“I’m okay.”
That was the first thing I said.
Because I knew him.
And because I could hear fear beneath his anger.
“Where are you?”
“With Rebecca.”
“Good.”
He exhaled.
“What happened?”
I told him everything.
The towel.
Victoria.
The attempted bank login.
The forged email.
Julian’s debt.
The legal pad.
The call.
My father did not interrupt.
When I finished, he was silent for so long I checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected.
Then he said quietly, “I should have pushed harder.”
“No.”
“I didn’t trust him.”
“I know.”
“You thought I was being overprotective.”
“I did.”
“I wish I had been wrong.”
That hurt more than I expected.
My father had never forbidden me to marry Julian.
He had simply asked questions.
Why was Julian so interested in the company?
Why did Victoria repeatedly bring up inheritance?
Why did Julian resist a prenuptial agreement so aggressively?
I had called it old-fashioned suspicion.
Now every question looked like a warning flare I had chosen not to see.
“What did Julian ask the CFO?”
“He said you wanted to discuss using your shares as collateral for a family investment.”
My stomach dropped.
“Collateral?”
“Yes.”
“Can he do that?”
“Absolutely not.”
My father’s voice hardened.
“Those shares are restricted.”
“Any transfer, pledge, sale, or collateralization requires board approval.”
I closed my eyes.
“Does Julian know that?”
“He does now.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
“What happened?”
“Our CFO told him the request had to come directly from you and your attorney.”
“And?”
“He became aggressive.”
Rebecca held out her hand.
“Ask whether the call was recorded.”
I did.
My father responded immediately.
“Yes.”
Rebecca nodded.
Perfect.
“Dad, send it to Rebecca.”
“I already did.”
Of course he had.
My father had always been three steps ahead in business.
I just hadn’t inherited that instinct when it came to romance.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I brought him into our family.”
“You loved someone who lied to you.”
His voice softened.
“That is not the same thing.”
My eyes burned.
For the first time all day, I nearly cried again.
Then my father said something unexpected.
“Elena, there’s another issue.”
“What?”
“The $45,000 check.”
I looked at Rebecca.
“What about it?”
“Your mother and I wrote that check to you personally for a reason.”
“I know.”
“But Julian called me three weeks ago.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What did he say?”
“He asked whether we could make the check payable jointly.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“You never told me.”
“I asked why.”
“And?”
“He said it would make depositing it easier after the wedding.”
“What did you tell him?”
“No.”
A tiny laugh escaped me.
My father continued.
“He wasn’t happy.”
“He said something else too.”
“What?”
“He asked whether there would be any additional transfer after the marriage.”
I felt sick.
“Additional transfer of what?”
“Your inheritance.”
I stood.
“I don’t have an inheritance.”
“Exactly.”
I froze.
Rebecca looked up.
My father continued.
“I told him that.”
“He said Victoria had heard your grandfather left you a trust.”
My pulse started hammering.
My grandfather had died six years earlier.
There was no secret trust.
But there had been one private family matter Julian apparently knew nothing about.
My grandfather had created a trust.
Just not for me.
It belonged to my younger sister, Mia, who had developmental disabilities and would need lifetime care.
The trust was worth several million dollars.
And suddenly I understood something far more disturbing.
Julian and Victoria had not simply researched me.
May you like
They had gotten the details wrong.
And if they believed that trust belonged to me, then their entire marriage plan might have been built around money I never had.
