Chapter 7: The Betrayal Standing Behind My Daughter
The person standing behind Ava stepped into the light.
It was our housekeeper, Patricia.
She had worked for me for eleven years, long before Vanella entered my life. She had helped Ava through the difficult years after Rebecca died, prepared her favorite meals, and stayed beside her during nights when nightmares made her afraid to sleep alone.
Patricia was holding a thick brown folder.
My name was printed across the front.
I looked at her in disbelief.
"Patricia?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Mr. Carter, I'm sorry.""
Vanella immediately turned toward her.
"What are you doing with that?""
Patricia clutched the folder against her chest.
"I can't do this anymore.""
Richard Grant took a step forward.
"Patricia, give me the folder.""
She shook her head.
"No.""
His voice became sharper.
"I said give it to me.""
I moved between them.
"Nobody touches her.""
The guests had stopped talking. A few people were holding champagne glasses halfway to their mouths.
Tyler stood beside Brielle, looking increasingly uncomfortable.
Vanella approached Patricia.
"You're making a terrible mistake. You don't understand what's inside that folder.""
Patricia looked directly at her.
"I understand more than you think.""
I extended my hand.
"Patricia, bring it to me.""
She slowly walked down the stairs.
When she reached me, she handed over the folder.
My fingers felt strangely numb as I opened it.
Inside were copies of bank statements, property documents, emails, and several printed photographs.
The first photograph showed Vanella sitting in my home office.
She was opening one of my locked filing cabinets.
The second showed Denise Bennett photographing documents on my desk.
The third showed Brielle standing beside my laptop.
I looked up.
"Why are you taking pictures of these things?""
Patricia swallowed.
"Because I started noticing things disappearing from your office.""
I turned another page.
There were dates written beside each photograph.
Seven months earlier.
Six months earlier.
Three months earlier.
And the most recent photograph had been taken only four days ago.
"What else do you know?"" I asked.
Patricia looked toward Vanella.
"Mrs. Carter asked me to bring documents from your office several times. She said you had authorized it.""
I stared at my wife.
Vanella shook her head.
"She's lying.""
Patricia continued.
"Then she asked me to make copies of your financial statements. When I refused, she told me I would lose my job.""
Vanella stepped forward.
"That's enough!""
Patricia flinched.
I turned toward my wife.
"Let her finish.""
Patricia took a breath.
"About two months ago, Mrs. Carter asked me to unlock your office while you were away. She said she needed to retrieve a document for the insurance company.""
"What happened?""
"I saw Brielle sitting at your desk. She had your laptop open. There was a document on the screen with your signature.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Did you see what it was?""
Patricia nodded.
"It was a medical statement.""
The room became silent.
I looked at Daniel's message on my phone.
The forged medical statement.
"Was anyone else there?""
"Yes.""
"Who?""
Patricia looked directly at Tyler.
"Mr. Tyler Grant.""
Tyler's expression changed.
"That's ridiculous.""
Patricia shook her head.
"I heard him tell Brielle that the document needed to look official. He said nobody would question it if the doctor's name was included.""
Richard immediately stepped forward.
"You're making accusations you cannot prove.""
Patricia opened another section of the folder.
"Then perhaps you can explain these.""
She handed me a printed email.
The sender was Richard Grant.
The recipient was Tyler.
The subject line read:
*CARTER AUTHORIZATION — FINAL PREPARATION.*
I began reading.
Richard had written that the property transfer needed to be completed before the wedding.
He had also instructed Tyler to make sure the medical declaration was included in the paperwork.
But the last paragraph was what made my stomach turn.
If Michael refuses, we need to make sure the family believes he is becoming increasingly confused. Once the marriage is announced, the financial arrangement can be presented as his own decision.
I looked at Richard.
He didn't deny it.
Instead, he adjusted his jacket.
"Michael, this is a private business matter. You don't understand the full arrangement.""
I laughed.
"Then explain it.""
Richard glanced at the guests.
"Not here.""
"No. Right here.""
Vanella moved closer.
"Michael, please. You're embarrassing everyone.""
I turned toward her.
"Do you remember what you said when Ava asked you to return her mother's handbag?""
Vanella looked confused.
"You said she was being dramatic.""
I held up the folder.
"And all this time, you were planning to take something much bigger.""
Her face hardened.
"That is not fair.""
I looked at Brielle.
She was standing beside Tyler, tears running down her cheeks.
"Did you know about this?""
She shook her head.
"Michael, I swear—"
"Did you know?""
Her voice broke.
"Mom told me the property was going to be mine. She said you had already agreed.""
"Did you know about the medical statement?""
Brielle looked at Tyler.
That was enough.
I turned toward him.
"Answer me.""
Tyler put his phone away.
"I think everyone needs to calm down.""
"You're not answering my question.""
He looked at Brielle.
Then at Richard.
Finally, he said, "The paperwork was supposed to be temporary.""
I stared at him.
"Temporary?""
"It was part of a larger financial arrangement.""
"With my property?""
"With the development.""
I stepped closer.
"Without my permission?""
Tyler said nothing.
I looked around the room.
The flowers. The photographs. The champagne.
Every decoration had been arranged to make this evening look like a celebration of love.
Instead, it was a carefully staged announcement of a transaction I had never approved.
I turned toward the guests.
"I'm sorry you were invited here under false pretenses. There will be no wedding at this estate, and there is no property transfer.""
One of the guests quietly put down her glass.
Richard's face turned red.
"You can't simply cancel a deal because you don't like the outcome.""
I looked at him.
"I can cancel an agreement I never authorized.""
He pointed toward the folder.
"You have no idea what you're interfering with.""
"Then tell me.""
He stared at me.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Patricia quietly said, "There's something else, Mr. Carter.""
I turned.
"What?""
She reached into the folder and pulled out a smaller envelope.
"This was hidden inside the desk drawer in your office. I found it when I was cleaning.""
I opened it.
Inside was a printed document titled:
*PRIVATE FAMILY AGREEMENT.*
It contained several names.
Vanella.
Denise.
Richard.
Tyler.
And Brielle.
At the bottom was a section describing how the proceeds from the property transaction would be divided.
Vanella would receive a percentage.
Denise would receive a percentage.
Richard's company would receive the largest portion.
And Brielle would receive a substantial amount through a newly established trust.
I looked at my stepdaughter.
"Is this what you wanted?""
She began crying.
"Mom told me it was my future.""
I turned to Vanella.
"And what was Ava's future?""
Vanella's face became expressionless.
"She would have been taken care of.""
"With what?""
"Michael, you have enough money to provide for both girls.""
I shook my head.
"You don't get to decide what happens to my daughter's inheritance.""
Vanella suddenly raised her voice.
"Your daughter has already taken enough from Brielle!""
I stared at her.
"What did Ava take?""
"Everything!""
Vanella pointed toward the staircase.
"She gets the house. She gets the money. She gets your attention. She gets everything because you feel guilty about her mother!""
Ava came down the stairs.
Her eyes were wet, but her voice was steady.
"I never asked you to give me anything.""
Vanella turned.
"Stay out of this.""
"No," Ava replied.
"I'm tired of staying out of things that happen to me.""
Brielle looked at her.
"Ava, please.""
Ava turned toward her stepsister.
"You took my dress. You took my mother's handbag. You tried to make me sign away my rights to the house. What else did you want?""
Brielle covered her mouth.
For a moment, I thought she might finally tell the truth.
Instead, Tyler grabbed her arm.
"Let's go.""
She pulled away.
"Don't touch me.""
Tyler frowned.
"Brielle, we need to leave.""
Richard approached his son.
"Tyler, get in the car.""
But Daniel, who had arrived earlier and had been standing near the entrance, stepped forward.
"Nobody needs to rush anywhere.""
Richard looked at him.
"Who are you?""
"Daniel Brooks. I'm Michael's attorney.""
Daniel held up his phone.
"The documents in that folder have already been preserved. We've also contacted the appropriate authorities regarding the suspected fraudulent authorization and medical statement.""
Vanella went pale.
"You called the police?""
Daniel remained calm.
"We reported the evidence and the threatening messages. Any further questions should be directed through counsel.""
Richard looked toward the front door.
Then he turned to Vanella.
"This is your fault.""
Vanella stared at him.
"My fault?""
"You said he would sign.""
I looked at Richard.
"That's what this was about? You thought I would sign whatever my wife put in front of me?""
Richard didn't answer.
Daniel stepped beside me.
"Michael, we should secure the remaining documents and have everyone leave.""
I nodded.
Then I turned to Patricia.
"Thank you.""
She began crying.
"I should have told you sooner.""
I shook my head.
"You told me when you were ready. That's what matters.""
I looked at Ava.
"Let's go upstairs.""
She nodded.
As we reached the staircase, Brielle suddenly called out.
"Ava!""
My daughter stopped.
Brielle walked toward her, holding something in her hand.
It was the jeweled handbag.
"I found this in Mom's closet," she whispered.
Ava stared at it.
Brielle extended her arms.
"I'm sorry.""
Ava slowly took the handbag.
She examined the clasp, then looked at the damaged edge.
"Why did you do it?""
Brielle began sobbing.
"I thought if I had everything Mom promised me, she'd finally be proud of me.""
Ava didn't answer.
Then she walked upstairs.
I followed her.
Behind us, I heard Richard speaking angrily to Tyler.
But I barely noticed.
My daughter had her mother's handbag again.
And I thought that was the end of the worst betrayal.
Until Daniel called me twenty minutes later.
"Michael, I need you to come back downstairs.""
"What happened?""
"We found something in the folder Patricia brought.""
"What?""
Daniel paused.
"There's a bank account in Ava's name.""
My stomach tightened.
"She has an account with me. What's wrong?""
"Not that one.""
I looked toward Ava's bedroom.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Someone opened a second account using Ava's personal information. And there have been deposits going into it for the last six months.""
"From whom?""
He took a breath.
"From a company owned by Richard Grant.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Why would Richard be paying money into an account in my daughter's name?""
May you like
Daniel answered quietly.
"That's exactly what we need to find out.""
