Chapter 9 - PAIGE CHANGES SIDES
Paige refused to speak with Brandon.
She asked for Rachel.
That alone told Rachel how terrified she was.
The video call came from a guarded hospital room in Miami.
Paige’s head was bandaged.
One eye swollen.
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“I’m sorry.”
Rachel didn’t answer.
Apologies could wait.
“Who attacked you?”
“Richard.”
“Why?”
“Because I backed out.”
“Of what?”
Paige began crying.
“The documents.”
Rachel remained still.
“Which documents?”
“All of them.”
There it was.
“I forged your signature.”
Rachel felt nothing.
Maybe she had gone beyond anger.
“On the home-equity application?”
“Yes.”
“The children’s trusts?”
Paige nodded.
“The Florida certification?”
“Yes.”
“Did Brandon know?”
“Some of it.”
“What did he know?”
“He knew we were trying to get access to money before the divorce.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
So Brandon had lied.
Again.
“He told me he never signed the trust paperwork.”
“He didn’t.”
That surprised her.
“Mom said he was too nervous.”
“So you forged his involvement too?”
“Some.”
Rachel leaned closer.
“Paige, why?”
A sob escaped her.
“Richard told us you’d stolen money.”
Rachel almost laughed.
“From whom?”
“His family.”
“What family?”
“Victor Shaw.”
Every muscle in Rachel’s body tightened.
Behind her, Samuel closed his eyes.
Paige continued.
“Richard said your father stole documents that made your family rich.”
Rachel glanced around the modest farmhouse.
“Does this look rich?”
“He said the property rights were hidden.”
That fit.
“Why target me instead of my father?”
“Because of your trust.”
“What trust?”
Paige stared.
“You really don’t know.”
Rachel hated those words now.
“Tell me.”
“Your grandfather established it.”
“Both my grandfathers are dead.”
“Not them.”
Paige swallowed.
“Victor.”
Rachel looked at Samuel.
He sat down heavily.
“What trust?”
Paige continued.
“Richard found it two years ago. It becomes accessible when you turn forty.”
Rachel was thirty-nine.
Her birthday was six weeks away.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Estimate.”
“Richard said hundreds of millions.”
Rachel’s breathing slowed.
Suddenly the timing made perfect sense.
Brandon’s snooping.
The marriage pressure.
The custody trap.
Miami.
The forged documents.
They weren’t draining Rachel because of what she currently owned.
They were positioning Brandon to claim part of what she was about to inherit.
“Why Miami?”
“Celeste controls the trust administration.”
Rachel whispered a curse.
“And Brenda?”
Paige’s face twisted.
“Mom knew Victor.”
“My uncle.”
Paige went silent.
Samuel looked at Rachel sharply.
“How did you know?”
Too late.
Paige had heard.
“Your uncle?”
Rachel watched Paige’s reaction.
Genuine confusion.
Good.
Not everyone knew every secret.
That made the conspiracy more dangerous.
Each person held only one piece.
“Where is Brenda?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did Richard attack you?”
“Because I found a second file in his laptop.”
“What file?”
Paige looked toward the hospital door.
Then lowered her voice.
“Birth certificates.”
Rachel’s stomach tightened.
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
Samuel stood.
“End the call.”
Rachel turned.
“What?”
“Rachel, hang up.”
She stared at her father.
Paige continued.
“There were two.”
Nobody moved.
Rachel returned her eyes to the screen.
“Explain.”
“One from Sacramento County.”
“That’s mine.”
“And one from Nevada.”
Rachel’s mother began shaking her head.
“No.”
Paige whispered:
“Different father.”
Rachel stared at Samuel.
He looked thirty years older.
“Dad?”
He said nothing.
Paige continued quickly.
“Richard said the trust only belongs to the biological descendant of Victor Shaw.”
Rachel’s mind raced.
Victor was supposedly her maternal uncle.
That shouldn’t matter.
Unless—
Her mother stood.
“Stop.”
Rachel turned.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Tears ran down her mother’s face.
Samuel looked at the floor.
Rachel felt the truth approaching before anyone spoke it.
Her mother finally whispered:
“Victor Shaw wasn’t my brother.”
Rachel’s mouth went dry.
“Then who was he?”
No answer.
“Mom.”
Her mother looked directly at her.
“He was your biological father.”
Silence swallowed the farmhouse.
Rachel stared at Samuel.
The man who taught her to ride a bicycle.
The man who stayed beside her bed when she had pneumonia.
The man her children called Grandpa.
He wasn’t her biological father.
And the criminal financier whose secret empire had resurfaced around her life wasn’t her uncle.
He was her father.
Then Paige screamed through the phone.
A shadow moved behind her hospital curtain.
The video jolted.
Rachel shouted her name.
A man’s hand seized the phone.
For one second, Richard Vale’s face filled the screen.
He smiled.
May you like
“Happy early birthday, Rachel.”
The call went black.
