Chapter 8 - THE SIGNATURE Emma NEVER MADE
The signature was excellent.
Emma almost believed it herself.
Almost.
Her name curved across the proxy assignment exactly the way she signed school forms, medical bills, and checks.
But one detail was wrong.
The middle initial.
Emma never used it.
Her father did.
The forged signature read:
Emma R. Hayes.
She signed:
Emma Hayes.
Always.
“Where did you get this?”
William remained calm.
“It was executed electronically.”
“Not by me.”
Derek said:
“You signed a lot of documents during pregnancy.”
Emma looked at him.
“You’re really doing this?”
“I’m saying you may not remember.”
Brittany stared.
“You’re disgusting.”
Derek turned.
“You’re hardly in a position—”
She slapped him.
Hard.
Everyone froze.
Brittany’s eyes filled with tears.
“You used both of us.”
Derek touched his cheek.
Then looked at Emma.
“I was trying to secure our future.”
Emma laughed.
“Our future?”
“The money could have changed everything.”
“It already did.”
He frowned.
“It showed me exactly who you are.”
Luca’s attorney took the proxy.
“We can challenge this immediately.”
Luca said:
“The board meets in two hours.”
Emma shifted her daughter carefully.
“What happens if they accept it?”
“If Derek is recognized as your proxy, the Morrison bloc temporarily gains enough votes to challenge me.”
“So?”
“So William could control the company until the authenticity issue is resolved.”
Emma looked at Luca.
“What company?”
“Moretti Hospitality Group.”
“How many hotels?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Restaurants?”
“Forty-one.”
She stared.
“You’re telling me my forged signature could hand Derek influence over all that?”
“Temporarily.”
Emma’s anger became clarity.
“What do I need to do?”
Luca’s attorney answered:
“Appear personally.”
Emma looked down at herself.
Hospital gown.
Three days postpartum.
Barely able to stand comfortably.
Luca immediately said:
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You are not leaving the hospital for a board meeting.”
“Are you my doctor?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
His jaw tightened.
Emma continued:
“Do not start protecting me by making decisions for me.”
Something in Luca changed.
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
Derek scoffed.
“Emma, this is ridiculous.”
She ignored him.
The physician approved discharge later that afternoon with restrictions.
No long walking.
No unnecessary physical stress.
Emma dressed slowly.
The same clothes she had worn before labor no longer fit comfortably.
A nurse found loose pants and a cardigan from the hospital donation closet.
Emma looked in the mirror.
Exhausted.
Pale.
Hair pulled back.
Perfect.
She did not need to look powerful.
She only needed to tell the truth.
Luca arranged a car.
Emma stopped beside it.
“No convoy.”
“It’s standard.”
“One car.”
“Emma.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Luca exhaled.
“One follow vehicle.”
“Fine.”
Progress.
At Moretti Hospitality headquarters, the boardroom went silent when Emma entered carrying her newborn in a car seat.
William was already seated.
Derek beside him.
Neither expected her.
Luca walked behind Emma.
Not ahead.
That mattered too.
The board chair cleared his throat.
“Ms. Hayes, you were not required to appear.”
Emma placed the forged proxy on the table.
“Apparently I was.”
Then she looked directly at the board.
“I did not sign this.”
William’s attorney stood.
“That has not been established.”
Emma smiled.
“Then establish it.”
A handwriting expert joined remotely.
Digital forensics began reviewing electronic metadata.
Twenty minutes later, one detail appeared.
The document had been uploaded from Derek’s home computer.
Derek went pale.
Then another.
The electronic signature certificate had been created using a scan from Emma’s tax return.
A tax return stored in Derek’s cloud account.
The board chair looked at him.
“Mr. Morrison?”
Derek whispered:
“My father handled it.”
William turned.
The betrayal happened instantly.
“Derek.”
Everyone heard it.
Emma almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Then digital forensics found something else.
A second document created the same day.
PARENTAL AUTHORITY AGREEMENT.
Emma frowned.
“What is that?”
Her attorney opened it.
Then went still.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“This document attempts to give Derek emergency guardianship rights over your daughter if you are deemed medically incapacitated.”
Emma’s blood turned cold.
“Deemed by who?”
The lawyer read.
“A physician named Dr. Samuel Keene.”
Emma recognized the name.
He had visited her room the morning after delivery.
He introduced himself as a hospitalist covering another doctor.
She remembered him asking strange questions.
Was she sleeping?
Did she feel confused?
Had she experienced anxiety?
At the time, she thought he was checking postpartum symptoms.
Luca asked:
“Where is Dr. Keene now?”
No one knew.
Then Emma’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Dr. Keene.
Standing beside William Morrison.
Taken two weeks earlier.
Then a message:
ASK DEREK WHAT THEY PLANNED TO DO IF YOU REFUSED TO SIGN.
May you like
Emma slowly looked at him.
And Derek began to cry.
