Chapter 9: The Final Deal My Mother Made Behind My Back
"She's threatening us.""
Harrison read the message twice.
Then he looked at the photograph.
My mother stood outside the storage facility, wearing a black coat and holding a document envelope.
Whitmore was beside her.
They looked calm.
Almost confident.
Brianna stepped closer.
"Why does she still have anything to bargain with?""
Harrison placed the phone on the table.
"Because the archive contains the ownership records, but the remaining commercial rights may be held separately.""
I frowned.
"Where?""
He examined the recovered contract.
"Your grandmother created a secondary escrow agreement. It appears the original rights were divided into two parts.""
"One part is here.""
"Correct. The other was deposited with the Bellamy family.""
I stared at him.
"Then why does my mother have it?""
"She may have obtained a copy. Or she may be bluffing.""
Brianna looked at the photograph again.
"She isn't bluffing.""
I turned toward her.
"How do you know?""
"Because she kept talking about a document when we were younger. She said Grandma had left her something valuable that nobody could ever take away.""
I felt a chill.
"What document?""
"I don't know. But she used to keep a red folder in her bedroom. She told me it was the only thing that could protect us if Evelyn ever came back.""
Harrison nodded slowly.
"That may be the escrow agreement.""
My phone rang.
The caller ID showed Denise Carter.
I answered.
"What do you want?""
My mother's voice was surprisingly calm.
"Come to the Sterling Hotel at seven.""
"Why?""
"Because we're going to finish this.""
"I have nothing to discuss with you.""
"Then you can watch everything your grandmother built disappear.""
I glanced at Harrison.
He signaled for me to put the call on speaker.
My mother continued.
"I have the final ownership document. Without it, the foundation cannot restore the collection.""
"Where did you get it?""
"That doesn't matter.""
"You're lying.""
She laughed.
"You're still so much like Evelyn. Always believing a piece of paper makes you untouchable.""
I took a breath.
"What do you want?""
"A signature.""
"On what?""
"A complete transfer of your interest in the Carter Atelier collection.""
Harrison shook his head sharply.
My mother continued.
"You sign, Brianna receives the business, and we all move on.""
I looked at my sister.
She was staring at the floor.
"Why would I give you something Grandma left me?""
"Because I'm your mother.""
I closed my eyes.
"No, Denise. You're the person who raised me.""
Silence.
Then she spoke quietly.
"Seven o'clock. Don't be late.""
The call ended.
Harrison immediately shook his head.
"Absolutely not. We are not signing anything.""
"We won't.""
"Then why go?""
I looked at the photograph.
"Because I want to know what she's hiding.""
Harrison considered this.
"We'll arrange for legal representation and ensure the meeting is documented.""
Brianna stepped forward.
"I'm coming.""
I looked at her.
"She asked me to come alone.""
"She doesn't get to control us anymore.""
I studied my sister.
Her purple suit from the previous day was gone. She wore simple jeans and a gray sweater.
For the first time, she looked like the girl who had grown up beside me rather than the daughter who had always been placed above me.
"Are you sure?"" I asked.
She nodded.
"I owe Grandma the truth.""
At seven, we entered the Sterling Hotel.
The same ballroom where Brianna had posed in my gown.
The lights were dimmer now.
Most of the event staff had left.
My mother stood near the stage, wearing a black tailored dress. Whitmore was beside her.
A red folder sat on the table.
My mother looked at me.
"You're late.""
"It's seven exactly.""
She ignored the remark.
Her eyes moved toward Brianna.
"I told you to come alone.""
Brianna stepped forward.
"I'm not leaving.""
My mother shook her head.
"You're making this difficult.""
"No, Mom. I'm making my own decision.""
Whitmore smiled thinly.
"Let's not turn this into another family argument.""
Harrison entered behind us.
"I agree. Let's discuss the legal documents.""
My mother looked furious.
"You said she was coming alone.""
"I never agreed to that.""
Whitmore opened the red folder.
Inside was a thick document with a familiar seal.
Harrison approached the table.
His expression changed immediately.
"Where did you get this?""
My mother smiled.
"From Evelyn.""
"That document was supposed to be held in escrow.""
"Well, it wasn't.""
Harrison examined the first page.
Then he looked at me.
"This is the secondary commercial rights agreement.""
My mother leaned back.
"Exactly.""
I frowned.
"What does it say?""
Harrison read the opening clause.
"It confirms that the original collection cannot be transferred to a third party without the written consent of the trust beneficiary.""
I looked at my mother.
"Then why are you holding it?""
She smiled.
"Because there's another page.""
She turned the document around.
A signature appeared at the bottom.
My name.
Nia Carter.
I felt my stomach drop.
"What is that?""
"A consent agreement.""
"I never signed that.""
My mother tapped the paper.
"Your signature says otherwise.""
Harrison examined it.
"Where did this come from?""
"An old agreement.""
I looked closer.
The date was from eight years earlier.
The same year I had signed the apprenticeship document.
My mother had taken my signature from the original agreement and attached it to a completely different contract.
Again.
I laughed quietly.
"You're still doing it.""
My mother frowned.
"Doing what?""
"Using my signature to steal from me.""
She stood.
"Careful, Nia.""
"No. You be careful.""
I stepped toward the table.
"You took Grandma's money. You stole her designs. You kept my father's letters. You made me believe I was your daughter because you were afraid the truth would expose you.""
My mother looked at Harrison.
"She's unstable.""
Harrison remained silent.
I continued.
"And now you're trying to use a forged document to take the last thing Grandma left me.""
Whitmore closed the folder.
"Enough.""
He looked toward my mother.
"Denise, I told you this would happen.""
She turned on him.
"You said the archive was destroyed!""
"It was supposed to be.""
Brianna stared at him.
"You knew about the letters?""
Whitmore didn't answer.
"You knew my father was alive?""
He looked irritated.
"I knew Thomas had been involved.""
Brianna's voice broke.
"And you let me believe you were just some investor who cared about my career?""
Whitmore shrugged.
"I provided opportunities.""
"You stole from my grandmother.""
"I made business decisions.""
Brianna shook her head.
"You were never proud of me. You were proud that I was useful.""
For the first time, Whitmore had no clever response.
My mother reached for the folder.
"Edward, just give me the documents.""
He pulled them away.
"No.""
She stared at him.
"What?""
He lowered his voice.
"I told you this deal was over if the archive was recovered.""
"You promised me!""
"I promised you a partnership, not a prison sentence.""
My mother's face went white.
Harrison stepped forward.
"Thank you, Mr. Whitmore.""
Whitmore looked at him.
"For what?""
"For confirming that you were involved in the unauthorized transfer.""
He glanced toward the ceiling.
A small red light blinked above the ballroom entrance.
My mother noticed it.
Her mouth opened.
"You recorded this?""
Harrison nodded.
"This meeting has been documented under the trust's legal preservation protocol.""
Whitmore immediately stepped away from the table.
"This is ridiculous.""
But the damage was done.
My mother looked at me.
"You set me up.""
I shook my head.
"You arranged this meeting.""
She pointed toward Brianna.
"Your sister is the reason this family is falling apart.""
Brianna stood straight.
"No. You are.""
My mother laughed bitterly.
"You ungrateful child. Everything I did was for you.""
"Then why did you lie about my father?""
"Because I loved you!""
"Why did you steal from Grandma?""
"Because she loved Nia more!""
The words exploded through the empty ballroom.
My mother froze.
I stared at her.
There it was.
The confession.
Not a mistake.
Not a misunderstanding.
Jealousy.
Resentment.
A lifetime of believing that love was something people could steal from one another.
Harrison quietly closed his briefcase.
"Mrs. Carter, I suggest you obtain legal representation immediately.""
My mother looked around.
Then she reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a small folded paper.
"Fine.""
She threw it onto the table.
"You want the truth? Read that.""
I picked it up.
It was a document from the Bellamy family trust.
The heading read:
*FINAL BENEFICIARY DECLARATION — CARTER ATELIER.*
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My grandmother had arranged for the entire collection to return to the Bellamy Foundation if the Carter family failed to restore its original ownership within thirty years.
The deadline was tomorrow.
I looked at Harrison.
"Is that true?""
He nodded slowly.
"Yes.""
My mother smiled.
"Now you understand.""
I stared at the document.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I wanted you to believe you had won.""
She leaned forward.
"Tomorrow, the rights transfer back to the Bellamy family. Neither you nor Brianna gets anything.""
Harrison checked the date.
His face tightened.
"She's right about the deadline.""
I felt my chest tighten.
My grandmother had spent decades protecting her collection.
And tomorrow, it could disappear again.
My mother picked up her handbag.
"Enjoy your little victory tonight.""
She turned toward the exit.
Whitmore followed.
But before they reached the door, Brianna spoke.
"Mom.""
Denise stopped.
Brianna looked at her.
"You told me Grandma never wanted me.""
My mother didn't turn around.
"She didn't.""
Brianna swallowed.
"Then why did she leave me a protected inheritance?""
No answer.
"Why did she leave Nia the business and me money?""
Still nothing.
Brianna's voice cracked.
"Because she wanted us to have different futures. Not because she loved one of us more.""
My mother turned slowly.
For a moment, her eyes filled.
Then she said something I will never forget.
"Your grandmother should have left everything to me.""
She walked out.
The ballroom doors closed behind her.
Harrison immediately began gathering the documents.
"We need to contact the Bellamy Foundation tonight.""
"Can we stop the transfer?""
"Possibly. But we need one thing.""
"What?""
"The original beneficiary declaration.""
I looked down.
The document my mother had thrown onto the table.
Harrison examined the final page.
Then he frowned.
"This is incomplete.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"The signature page is missing.""
My phone buzzed.
A message from Gloria.
*Nia, I found something in your grandmother's sewing machine. You need to come home immediately.*
Another message followed.
*It's the original signature page. Denise tried to remove it years ago, but she missed something.*
I looked at Harrison.
He nodded.
"Let's go.""
Because my grandmother hadn't simply left us a deadline.
May you like
She had left us one final chance.
And the person who had hidden the missing page might finally be ready to tell us why.
