Chapter 3 - THE SIGNATURE OF A SIX-YEAR-OLD GIRL
Someone had forged Ava Monroe’s signature when she was six years old.
And for twenty years, that lie had paid for Bianca Whitmore’s diamonds, Victoria’s luxury vacations, and Richard’s glittering mansion.
By midnight, Ava sat inside Niko Moretti’s private office overlooking Manhattan.
His coat still covered her shoulders.
A neatly folded replacement dress rested on the sofa, brought by a female hotel manager who had discreetly offered Ava a private changing room.
Ava had declined.
She wanted to see the evidence first.
Niko placed several documents across the desk.
“Your mother established Monroe Design House before she married Richard. She created the original Black Rose Collection. The company later merged with Whitmore Holdings.”
Ava traced her mother's printed name.
“Why did nobody tell me?”
“Because the controlling shares were transferred using fraudulent documents.”
“Can we prove that?”
“We can prove the signature was filed. To prove who created it and who benefited, we'll need the original records.”
Ava looked down.
“All my life, Dad said Mom ruined him financially.”
Niko pulled another photograph from a folder.
Eleanor stood in an elegant studio surrounded by sketches and fabric samples.
She was smiling.
Ava had never seen that photograph.
“She looks happy,” Ava whispered.
“She was successful,” Niko said. “And she believed her designs should belong to the people who created them.”
Something in his voice made Ava look up.
“How well did you know her?”
Niko hesitated.
“My father worked with her. She helped him when his company was nearly bankrupt.”
“Your father?”
“Antonio Moretti.”
Ava remembered the unfamiliar gray-haired man in the photograph.
“He died seven years ago,” Niko continued. “Before he died, he told me Eleanor had hidden something that could expose a serious financial crime.”
“The key?”
“Possibly.”
Ava removed it from her pocket.
The black rose glimmered beneath the office light.
On the reverse side was a number.
417.
Niko opened an old building directory on his computer.
“Four seventeen,” he repeated.
His expression changed.
“What?” Ava asked.
“Monroe Design House originally occupied the fourth floor of a building on West Twenty-Seventh Street.”
Ava leaned forward.
“Does it still exist?”
“The building does. But the property was transferred to Richard Whitmore nineteen years ago.”
“Then we go there.”
Niko studied her.
“You've had a difficult night.”
“My entire life has been a difficult night.”
For the first time, he smiled.
“Fair enough.”
A phone rang.
His security chief, Dante Russo, spoke urgently.
“Boss, someone entered the old Monroe building twenty minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“We're checking.”
Ava saw Niko’s smile disappear.
Dante continued.
“And there's something else. We recovered footage of Victoria Whitmore meeting a man outside the hotel.”
“Who was he?”
There was a pause.
“Eleanor Monroe’s former attorney.”
Ava gripped the edge of the desk.
Niko asked, “Wasn't he reported dead?”
“Yes, boss.”
May you like
Dante lowered his voice.
“Twenty years ago.”
