She told me Daniel had discovered Victor’s fraud.
The night before Daniel died, he visited Melissa.
“He gave me a flash drive,” she said. “He told me that if anything happened to him, I should take it to the police.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No.”
My heart sank.
“Victor came after the funeral. He said Daniel had been confused. He said the company was under investigation and that the files could destroy everyone, including me. I believed him.”
“What did you do?”
“I gave him the drive.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why are you telling me now?”
Her answer was almost a whisper.
“Because Victor is sick.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That suddenly gave you a conscience?”
“No.”
Her voice hardened.
“It made him careless.”
A week earlier, Victor had collapsed at Melissa’s apartment.
While looking for his insurance card, she opened a locked drawer.
Inside was Daniel’s old wristwatch.
And a handwritten note.
Daniel’s note.
It said:
V knows everything. If he asks about the audit, tell Helen.
Melissa had recognized Daniel’s handwriting.
“Why would Victor have this?”
I knew the answer.
But knowing isn’t proving.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
She said, “I want Noah safe.”
That was the beginning of the strangest alliance of my life.
I never forgave Melissa for sleeping with my husband.
She never asked me to.
But I came to understand something forgiveness and understanding are not the same thing.
Victor had used both of us differently.
He had betrayed me.
He had frightened her.
And he had spent thirteen years believing our hatred for each other would protect him.
He almost succeeded.
Back in the hospital room, Victor’s heart monitor screamed.
Martin rose halfway from his chair.
“Helen, perhaps we should—”
“No.”
Victor stared at me.
“What did I give away?”
I turned toward Melissa.
She looked frightened.
But not for the reason Victor assumed.
This moment had been planned.
Not perfectly.
Nothing involving a dying man could be.
But we had prepared for the possibility.
Victor looked between us.
Then something in his face changed.
Suspicion.
“You two…”
Melissa stepped away from his bed.
Eleanor stood.
“What is happening?”
I picked up the folder containing the property transfers.
“Victor, do you remember Meridian Holdings?”
His jaw tightened.
“So?”
“Meridian owns the senior debt on Northstar, Horizon, VMC Holdings and Kensington.”
He stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“You don’t understand business.”
For the first time that day, I smiled.
“I own Meridian.”
Silence.
Victor’s face emptied.
Eleanor gripped the chair.
Melissa whispered, “Helen…”
I continued.
“For eleven years, your companies have been borrowing against assets using money from Meridian. Almost every property you just transferred is collateral securing those loans.”
Victor’s breathing accelerated.
“You’re lying.”
Martin looked down.
He already knew enough to understand the implications.
I placed one transfer document in front of Victor.
“Read paragraph fourteen.”
Victor didn’t move.
So I read it.
“The transferring party warrants that he possesses beneficial control of the named asset and that no third party exercises undisclosed authority over its disposition.”
Victor’s lips parted.
I placed another document beside it.
“And every transfer says the same thing.”
Martin’s face went white.
“Helen…”
Victor stared at him.
“What?”
Martin swallowed.
“If there’s ongoing litigation concerning beneficial ownership—”
“There is,” I said.
Victor’s eyes snapped toward me.
“There wasn’t when you entered this hospital.”
“Correct.”
