Chapter 2 - The Accounts Grant Emptied
Grant was escorted from the NICU.
Vanessa followed him.
She still wore my coat.
I let her keep it.
For the moment.
There were more important things to save.
Noah’s oxygen saturation dropped twice that afternoon.
Elise developed difficulty maintaining her temperature.
Every monitor alarm made my entire body tense.
Grandfather stayed.
He canceled meetings.
He ate cafeteria coffee and crackers beside my bed without complaining.
At six that evening, a woman entered my room carrying a leather briefcase.
“Emma, this is Rachel Sloan.”
Grandfather gestured toward her.
“She has represented the family trust for fifteen years.”
Rachel sat beside me.
“I understand you signed a proposed settlement this morning.”
“Yes.”
“Were you represented by counsel?”
“No.”
“Had you received full financial disclosure from Grant?”
“No.”
“Had he already removed funds from jointly held accounts?”
“He said he had.”
Rachel nodded slowly.
“That matters.”
I looked at the papers.
“Can he really take the company?”
“Not simply because he wrote it into a settlement and convinced you to sign while you were recovering from emergency surgery.”
Relief came too quickly.
Rachel lifted one hand.
“But do not assume the documents are meaningless either.”
I forced myself to listen.
“Grant will argue you signed voluntarily.”
“I did.”
“Then we fight with facts.”
She opened her laptop.
The first bank statement appeared.
Our primary account had held $186,000 three weeks earlier.
The current balance was $742.
I stared at the number.
“He took all of it?”
“Almost.”
A second account appeared.
Then a third.
Grant had moved the money through several transfers.
Some went to Crestline.
Some to a personal brokerage account.
And nearly $90,000 went somewhere unexpected.
Vanessa.
I looked at Rachel.
“Directly?”
“Through a limited-liability company registered four months ago.”
Grandfather leaned forward.
“Owned by whom?”
Rachel turned the screen.
Vanessa Cole.
Grant’s mistress had not merely been sleeping with my husband.
She had been receiving our money.
Then Rachel opened another document.
“Emma, did you authorize this?”
It was a corporate resolution from Crestline Medical Supply.
It claimed I had voluntarily resigned from the board six weeks earlier.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
I stared at it.
“I never signed that.”
Grandfather’s expression hardened.
Rachel zoomed in.
“It was electronically notarized.”
“I was on bed rest six weeks ago.”
“Can you prove where you were?”
I almost laughed.
“I was here.”
Beacon Crest had admitted me twice during the pregnancy.
The hospital possessed every record.
Rachel closed the file.
“Good.”
Then she opened something worse.
Grant had submitted the resignation to Crestline’s bank.
Using it, he had attempted to obtain a credit line against company assets.
“How much?”
Rachel looked at Grandfather.
“Four million.”
I felt cold.
Grant had not left me because Vanessa was pregnant.
Not only because of that.
He had been preparing financially for months.
The affair was personal.
The money was strategic.
Grandfather looked toward the NICU.
“Emma.”
“Yes?”
“When did Grant learn the twins might arrive early?”
“About seven weeks ago.”
Rachel and Grandfather exchanged a look.
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Rachel reopened the timeline.
The forged resignation had been filed six weeks ago.
One week after Grant learned my pregnancy had become dangerous.
He had started removing me from our company almost immediately after discovering I might spend months unable to work.
And suddenly his cruelty in the NICU looked less impulsive.
May you like
It looked planned.
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