Chapter 3 - MY FATHER’S SIDE
Dad came to my office at noon.
Alone.
He closed the door.
I did not offer coffee.
He noticed.
“Claire.”
“You filed against my shares.”
“I filed for review.”
“Same paper.”
“No.”
“Same effect.”
He sat down.
“You need to slow this down.”
I laughed.
“Which part?”
“The affair?”
“The fraud?”
“The forged approval?”
His face tightened.
“We don’t know there’s fraud.”
“We have fake vendors.”
“We have questionable vendors.”
I stared.
“Do lawyers train for that sentence?”
He ignored it.
“Morgan Events employs four hundred people.”
“I know.”
“If this explodes publicly, clients leave.”
“If I ignore it, money keeps leaving.”
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“Your mother is falling apart.”
That made me angry in a new way.
“Why is that relevant?”
“Chloe is her daughter too.”
“So am I.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“I don’t think you do.”
Silence.
He tried another approach.
“Julian says he can repay the questionable expenses.”
“Repay?”
The word tasted insane.
“Why would he repay legitimate expenses?”
Dad’s face changed.
There.
He had talked to Julian.
More than he admitted.
“How much did he offer?”
Dad said nothing.
“How much?”
“Three hundred thousand.”
I stood.
“There’s nearly two million missing.”
“He says the rest was actual work.”
“He says.”
Dad sighed.
“Claire, if you destroy him, Chloe goes down too.”
I stared.
Finally.
The truth.
This was not about the company.
Not yet.
It was about saving Chloe.
Again.
When Chloe was fourteen and crashed Mom’s car, I lied for her.
When she got caught cheating in college, Dad called the dean.
When she borrowed money and never repaid it, everyone called her “young.”
She was thirty-one.
Still young, apparently.
I walked to the window.
“Withdraw the petition.”
“I can’t.”
“Won’t.”
He looked down.
“Julian has another argument.”
“What?”
Dad slid a document across my desk.
A shareholder agreement.
My signature.
Dated six years earlier.
It stated that shares acquired through family trusts required spousal acknowledgment.
Julian’s acknowledgment line was blank.
I stared.
“I have never seen this.”
Dad’s voice went quiet.
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
The document was fake.
May you like
And it had been pulled from my father’s own firm archive.
