Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO SAVED THE WRONG THING
Anthony arrived at Claire’s apartment at six the next morning.
I had not invited him.
He looked exhausted.
“Where’s Dominic?”
I almost laughed.
“You tell me.”
Anthony stepped inside.
Claire stood behind me holding coffee like a weapon.
Anthony glanced at my face.
His expression changed.
“He hit you.”
“Yes.”
“Jesus.”
“Don’t perform outrage for me. Did you take my laptop?”
He went still.
That answered enough.
“Nora—”
“Three years ago. After the studio flood.”
“I recovered it.”
“You told me it was destroyed.”
“The casing was ruined.”
“Did you give it to Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
Anthony rubbed both hands over his face.
“I copied the files.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought your work deserved to survive.”
I stared.
“That almost sounds kind.”
“It was.”
“Then why did Vanessa get them?”
His eyes closed.
“I stored the backup on a company server.”
My stomach dropped.
Caruso Design.
“Without asking me?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“You people have a disease.”
Claire muttered:
“Apparently hereditary.”
Anthony ignored her.
He continued.
“Vanessa found the archive after she became creative director.”
“How?”
“She had access.”
“You knew she was using my designs?”
“Not immediately.”
“When did you know?”
“About two years ago.”
I laughed.
Of course.
Everyone knew except me.
“What did you do?”
“I confronted her.”
“And?”
“She said Dominic approved it.”
My chest tightened.
“Did he?”
Anthony hesitated.
“He said it was complicated.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead:
“What was complicated?”
“He said Caruso had invested heavily in the winter and spring collections. Pulling the designs would destroy vendor contracts.”
“So he let her keep stealing.”
“He said he would compensate you privately.”
I stared.
“Compensate me?”
Anthony nodded.
Suddenly I remembered the jewelry.
A sapphire bracelet after our fourth anniversary.
A diamond necklace after Dominic cancelled my planned studio tour.
A watch so expensive I was afraid to wear it.
Receipts.
Exactly what I thought the previous night.
He had known.
Every gift was hush money I didn’t know I was accepting.
Then Anthony said:
“There’s more.”
I almost laughed.
“Please. Apparently there’s always more.”
“The stolen designs are not the real reason Vanessa panicked last night.”
“What is?”
“She’s selling the bridal division.”
I frowned.
“To who?”
“A European luxury group.”
“For how much?”
“Eighty-four million.”
Claire whistled.
Anthony continued:
“The valuation depends heavily on intellectual property.”
My anger sharpened.
“My intellectual property.”
“Yes.”
“So Vanessa is selling my work.”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“She registered several derivatives under Caruso Design.”
“Can she do that?”
“Not if the underlying work belongs to you.”
“Which is why she needs me silent.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the flash drive.
“If I prove ownership, what happens?”
“The sale could collapse.”
“And Dominic?”
Anthony looked away.
“What?”
“Dominic needs that deal.”
“Why?”
“Caruso Design has debt.”
I stared.
“How much?”
“Enough that without the sale, the company could face a liquidity crisis.”
“How much, Anthony?”
He swallowed.
“Sixty-one million.”
My heart stopped.
Dominic had always described Caruso as expanding.
Strong.
Untouchable.
But apparently the company was drowning.
“Why is there so much debt?”
Anthony said nothing.
I studied him.
“Vanessa?”
“Partly.”
“What else?”
He looked at me.
“Dominic.”
That surprised me.
“What did he do?”
Anthony sat.
“He used company assets to cover something personal.”
My pulse changed.
“What?”
“He created a trust five years ago.”
“For who?”
Anthony’s answer was quiet.
“For you.”
I stared.
“I don’t have a trust.”
“Yes, you do.”
“How much?”
“Originally ten million.”
My stomach tightened.
“Originally?”
Anthony looked toward the hallway where Eli was still sleeping.
“Dominic borrowed against it.”
“For what?”
Anthony whispered:
May you like
“To buy control of Caruso Design from his father.”
And suddenly the company, the stolen dresses, and my marriage were tied together in a way I had never understood.
