Chapter 5 - My Signature
I woke at 7:12 a.m.
My mother was asleep in a chair.
My father was gone.
For several seconds panic surged through me.
Then I saw Thomas standing outside the glass door.
He noticed me wake.
He entered.
"Your father went downstairs to speak with counsel."
"What time is it?"
"Seven twelve."
I remembered everything.
The cane.
Lauren.
The forged signature.
My stomach turned.
"Has Matthew been arrested?"
"No."
"Why?"
"He contacted counsel."
"Of course he did."
Thomas pulled a chair closer.
"Detective Ortiz says that is normal."
"Nothing about this feels normal."
"No."
I looked at him.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Thomas raised one eyebrow.
"Your father always hated that."
"What?"
"That you could tell."
"Tell me."
He hesitated.
"NexusCore's board delayed the IPO."
My chest tightened.
"Delayed?"
"Indefinitely."
"Employees will panic."
"They already are."
"Matthew?"
"Blaming Sterling Meridian."
I stared at Thomas.
"What exactly is he saying?"
"That your father engineered a liquidity crisis to seize control of NexusCore."
I laughed.
Pain stabbed my ribs.
I stopped.
"That's absurd."
"That doesn't mean it won't work."
Thomas handed me his phone.
A statement from Matthew had been released at 6:51 a.m.
NexusCore is aware of unusual financial pressure exerted overnight by entities associated with Sterling Meridian.
We believe these actions may represent an attempt by outside interests to interfere with the company's planned public offering.
NexusCore remains financially sound.
We intend to defend our employees, investors, and mission against improper external influence.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
"He beat me and now he's calling himself a victim."
Thomas said nothing.
I looked at him.
"Did my father cause the liquidity review?"
"Indirectly."
"Explain."
"Sterling Meridian suspended three discretionary settlements."
"Why?"
"Because after your call, your father ordered a review of all exposure involving Matthew."
"So Matthew isn't completely lying."
Thomas's expression hardened.
"Your father did not fabricate thirty-two million dollars in suspicious transactions."
"No."
"He did not forge your signature."
"No."
"He did not put you in this hospital."
I lowered the phone.
"Publicly, those details don't exist yet."
"Correct."
"Matthew knows that."
"Yes."
It was brilliant in the ugliest possible way.
Matthew had moved first.
He turned the story from abused wife to corporate warfare before anyone could publish photographs.
My father entered.
He looked exhausted.
"You saw it."
"Yes."
"I am sorry."
"For what?"
"Giving him an opening."
I stared at him.
"You stopped payments."
"I did."
"Would you have done it if he hadn't hurt me?"
My father considered the question.
"If I had discovered the same financial irregularities, yes."
"That isn't what I asked."
His gaze dropped.
"No."
The honesty mattered.
I shifted carefully.
"So Matthew can say this is personal."
"Yes."
"And he will."
"Yes."
"Then we don't hide that."
My father looked at me.
"We say exactly what happened."
His expression became cautious.
"Clare, you do not owe the public your injuries."
"I know."
"You do not have to become evidence for strangers."
"I know."
"Once photographs leave police custody—"
"I know."
He stopped.
I reached for the tablet beside my bed.
"Show me my ownership documents."
"Clare."
"Show me."
My father hesitated.
Then he unlocked the tablet.
There were hundreds of pages.
Formation agreements.
Capitalization tables.
Proxies.
Board consents.
Tax schedules.
The more I read, the colder I became.
Matthew had not simply hidden shares.
He had built an entire legal structure around my identity.
Sterling-Nexus Holdings owned founder stock.
I was listed as managing member.
Matthew held voting authority through a proxy bearing a signature I never wrote.
Dividends had been reinvested.
Tax documents had gone to an accounting firm I did not recognize.
"Who is Elaine Porter?"
I asked.
My father's eyes narrowed.
"Where?"
I turned the tablet.
A certification appeared on three separate documents.
Prepared by Elaine Porter, Esq.
Thomas leaned over.
"Corporate attorney."
"I've never met her."
My father looked at Thomas.
"Find her."
Thomas already had his phone out.
I continued reading.
Then I found something worse.
A marital-property consent.
The document stated that I voluntarily pledged my NexusCore interests as collateral for financing obtained by Matthew.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
A notary stamp sat beside it.
Date:
October 14, six years earlier.
I remembered that date.
Not because of business.
Because I had been in Paris.
My mother had undergone surgery.
It was the only time during our estrangement that I secretly flew to see her.
I stayed at a hotel.
I never told Matthew.
He thought I was attending a design conference in Chicago.
"I wasn't in New York."
My father looked up.
"What?"
"This date."
I pointed.
"I was in Paris."
His face changed.
Thomas leaned closer.
"Can you prove it?"
I almost smiled.
"Yes."
"How?"
I looked at my mother.
She was awake now.
Her eyes filled with recognition.
"You came to me."
I nodded.
My mother stood.
"You were at Hôpital Saint-Louis with me the entire day."
Thomas's voice became very quiet.
"Then we may have proof of falsification."
"Not may."
My mother reached for her phone.
"Your father kept everything."
My father looked offended.
"I do not keep everything."
"You kept her boarding pass."
He looked away.
I stared.
"You kept my boarding pass?"
"It was the first thing you had given us in a year."
My throat tightened.
My father had preserved a boarding pass from the daughter who refused to come home.
Matthew had forged my name on the same day.
The contrast nearly suffocated me.
Thomas stepped into the hallway to make calls.
My father sat beside the bed.
"Clare."
"I should have listened to you."
"No."
"You warned me."
"I questioned him."
"You were right."
"Being right about the worst thing that ever happened to my daughter is not something I want credit for."
I looked at him.
"I thought you hated him because he wasn't from our world."
My father gave a tired laugh.
"Matthew was exactly from our world."
That surprised me.
"What?"
"Ambition."
"Charm."
"Men telling rooms what they wanted to hear."
He shook his head.
"I had spent thirty years meeting Matthews."
"I hated him because I recognized him."
Before I could answer, Thomas returned.
"We found Elaine Porter."
"Where?"
My father asked.
"Connecticut."
"Talk to her."
Thomas's expression was strange.
"We tried."
"And?"
"She disappeared from professional life five years ago."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Bar license inactive."
"No firm website."
"House sold."
"No current employer."
My father stood.
"Find her."
Thomas nodded.
"But there is something else."
"What?"
"Elaine Porter was once an associate at Sterling Meridian's outside counsel."
My father stared.
"When?"
"Twenty years ago."
"Did I know her?"
"We're checking."
Thomas looked at me.
"She also served as counsel to someone else."
"Who?"
He turned the tablet.
A name appeared.
Lauren Thorne.
I stared at it.
Lauren had told Matthew she was not the only person lying to me.
Now I wondered if she had been talking about the affair.
Or something far older.
Before anyone could speak, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Thomas looked at me.
"Don't answer."
Something made me ignore him.
I pressed accept.
"Hello?"
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a woman's voice.
"Clare Sterling?"
"Yes."
"My name is Elaine Porter."
Everyone in the room froze.
Her next words turned my blood to ice.
"I signed the documents."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Why?"
A long silence.
May you like
"Because your husband told me you were dead."
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