Chapter 5 - THE LETTER JULIAN STOLE
Julian denied it.
Of course he did.
“I don’t remember a letter.”
“You emptied Dad’s box.”
“He authorized me.”
“Why?”
“Because he trusted me.”
The cruelty of that sentence nearly took my breath away.
“What was on the drive?”
“Old investment files.”
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“What was in the envelope?”
“I said I don’t remember.”
“You remember what wine I served at a client dinner seven years ago.”
He stared.
“You’re accusing me of something because your father died?”
“I’m asking what you stole from me.”
“I stole nothing.”
“Then where is the envelope?”
Silence.
His eyes moved slightly.
Toward the study.
I saw it.
He realized I saw it.
Julian moved first.
So did I.
The study belonged to our house.
I had every legal right to enter.
He grabbed my wrist.
Not hard.
But enough.
“Don’t.”
I looked at his hand.
He released me.
“What is in there?”
“Nothing.”
“Move.”
He did not.
Then the front door opened.
Naomi entered with a locksmith and a court-approved preservation order connected to marital and financial records.
Julian went white.
“You got a court order?”
“Apparently I’m learning my place.”
The study safe contained passports.
Cash.
Mia’s jewelry receipts.
Two burner phones.
And one old envelope.
My father’s handwriting.
CLARA.
My hands shook so badly Naomi opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Sweetheart,
If you’re reading this, I probably failed to fix something before it reached you.
I had to stop.
Naomi waited.
I continued.
My father explained he had found a network of payments involving Thomas Grant.
He suspected money was being diverted through consulting companies.
Then came Julian’s name.
Julian helped me find the original discrepancy. I trust him. If I am unable to finish this audit, he has copies.
I looked at my husband.
He could not meet my eyes.
“Dad trusted you.”
Julian’s face collapsed slightly.
“He did.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“From the beginning.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you expose Thomas?”
Julian sat.
For the first time, he looked less like the arrogant executive on my yacht and more like the young man I had married.
“Because Thomas paid me.”
Silence.
“How much?”
“Five hundred thousand.”
My stomach turned.
“Nine years ago?”
“Yes.”
“You sold my father’s evidence?”
“No.”
“What would you call it?”
“I convinced Richard to wait.”
“He died the next morning.”
“I did not kill him.”
His voice cracked.
“I swear to you.”
“Then what happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you took his files.”
“Thomas told me if I turned them over, Arden would collapse, thousands of people would lose jobs, your shares would become worthless.”
“So you protected me?”
“No.”
At least he did not lie.
“I protected myself.”
There it was.
The truth.
“I took the money. I destroyed copies. I kept the drive.”
“Why keep it?”
“Insurance.”
“Against Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
Julian looked toward Mia’s jewelry receipts.
Then laughed bitterly.
“Gone.”
“What?”
“Mia took it.”
I stared.
“Why would Mia have Dad’s hard drive?”
“Because she wasn’t my mistress first.”
My blood went cold.
“What does that mean?”
Julian rubbed both hands over his face.
“Mia worked for Thomas.”
Silence.
“She approached me eight months ago.”
“You said the affair had been going on for—”
“Six months.”
“So before that?”
“She was gathering information.”
“About you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Julian looked up.
“Thomas knew I still had Richard’s drive.”
I felt sick.
“Mia started sleeping with you to find it?”
“Yes.”
“Does she have it now?”
Julian nodded.
May you like
“She disappeared this morning.”
And the woman I thought had come aboard my yacht to steal my husband had actually come into our lives looking for evidence my father left behind.
