Chapter 5 - THE WILL ADRIAN NEVER WANTED ME TO SEE
Victor Moretti had left two wills.
The public will distributed his personal property and most of his estate exactly as everyone expected.
The private codicil was different.
Sophia emailed me a scanned copy.
I read it at 3:14 in the morning beneath fluorescent lights in the Stanford lab.
My hands started shaking before I reached the second page.
Victor had discovered that Adrian knew about Carlo’s financial misconduct and failed to report it.
Worse, Adrian had signed off on two transactions.
Not illegal by themselves.
But suspicious enough that Victor amended his succession plan.
Adrian could remain chief executive.
He could receive profits.
He could run operations.
But controlling voting authority would be divided between several trusts.
Mine was the largest individual block.
If evidence emerged that Adrian participated knowingly in Carlo’s theft, my voting rights expanded automatically.
I called Rebecca.
She answered despite the hour.
“You’ve seen it?”
“Yes.”
“Is it real?”
“I’ve already requested verification.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means your husband may not be fighting to save your marriage.”
“I know.”
“He may be fighting to save his company.”
The next morning Adrian appeared outside my temporary apartment.
I had no idea how he found me.
He stood beside a black SUV wearing the same dark coat he wore when we first met in California years ago.
For half a second, my body remembered loving him before my brain remembered why I should not.
“Claire.”
I kept six feet between us.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“You left without telling me.”
“You went to New York without telling me why.”
“I told you.”
“You lied.”
His expression tightened.
“Can we go inside?”
“No.”
People walked along the sidewalk behind us.
Adrian hated public confrontations.
Good.
He lowered his voice.
“Whatever you think you heard—”
“I heard you say I loved you too much to leave.”
His face changed.
There it was.
The moment he understood.
“You were outside my office.”
“Yes.”
“Claire—”
“I also found the divorce agreement.”
Silence.
“The Manhattan lease.”
His jaw tightened.
“The transfers to Sophia.”
“Those aren’t what you think.”
“And the trust.”
That one landed.
Adrian stopped breathing for a second.
I almost admired how quickly he recovered.
“My father should have told you.”
“You should have told me.”
“I was protecting you from business complications.”
“No. You were protecting your control.”
“That’s not fair.”
I laughed.
“Five years ago, I gave up Stanford because you promised we were building one life together. You let me manage your life while hiding the fact that I owned part of the company.”
“Because I didn’t want money between us.”
“Money was already between us. I was simply the only one who didn’t know.”
He stepped closer.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“We can fix this.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened slightly.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m awake.”
He stared at me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not signing your restructuring documents.”
The color left his face.
So Daniel had been right.
This was the real reason.
“Claire.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what refusing will do.”
“Then explain it.”
He looked around.
“Not here.”
“Here is fine.”
His control cracked.
“If those assets aren’t consolidated, Carlo can force a board challenge.”
“Then perhaps you should have considered that before planning my divorce.”
“I wasn’t planning to divorce you.”
I stared.
“I saw the papers.”
“They were leverage.”
“Against whom?”
He hesitated.
“Sophia.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“You drafted papers to leave me so another woman would trust you?”
“I needed her father’s records.”
“And my feelings were what? Collateral?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He had no answer.
For years I had wanted Adrian to fight for me.
Now that he finally was, I realized how little it meant when the fight began only after I stopped serving his interests.
“Goodbye, Adrian.”
He caught my wrist.
Not hard.
But enough.
I looked down.
He released me immediately.
“Claire, please.”
It was the first genuine please I had heard from him in years.
I walked away.
That afternoon, Rebecca called.
The private codicil had been authenticated.
But there was another problem.
Someone had filed a challenge against Victor’s estate that morning.
Not Adrian.
Not Carlo.
A woman named Elena Moretti.
I had never heard the name.
Rebecca sounded unsettled.
“Claire, do you know anything about Adrian having a sister?”
“No.”
“According to the filing, he does.”
May you like
I sat slowly.
“And she claims Victor transferred your eighteen percent to hide the fact that those shares actually belonged to her.”
