Jessica’s lips parted.
“I didn’t—”
“There’s more,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
I reached beneath my pillow and pulled out my phone.
“I recorded the call.”
Jessica went completely still.
I pressed play.
Her own voice filled the room.
“Handle the problem quietly, or Richard will make sure you leave with nothing.”
Jessica’s face went white.
Richard stared at her.
“You said that?”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
His voice had lost all its confidence.
The attorney gathered the documents.
“There is also evidence of an attempt to conceal the transfer before the divorce filing.”
Richard looked
at me.
“Why didn’t you show this to the court?”
“Because I didn’t have everything yet.”
“What were you waiting for?”
“The truth.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You destroyed my wedding.”
I shook my head.
“No, Richard.”
I looked at the woman standing beside him.
“Your wedding was already destroyed. You just hadn’t discovered it yet.”
The hospital room fell silent.
Then the attorney placed one final document on the table.
“There’s one more matter.”
Richard stared at him.
“What now?”
“The trust.”
He opened the document.
“Your father amended the trust six months before his death.”
Richard frowned.
“That isn’t possible.”
“It was witnessed and notarized.”
The attorney turned the page.
“His instructions were explicit.”
Richard stepped closer.
“What did he change?”
The attorney looked directly at me.
“He removed you as successor beneficiary.”
Richard stopped breathing.
Jessica whispered,
“Then who gets the company?”
The attorney answered.
“Your daughter.”
Richard
shook his head.
“No.”
“Her biological status has now been verified.”
“No.”
“She becomes the protected beneficiary of thirty-eight percent of the voting shares.”
Richard looked at the bassinet.
My daughter slept peacefully, completely unaware that three adults were standing over her future.
“She’s an infant.”
“Exactly,” the attorney said. “Which is why the trust requires an independent trustee.”
Richard looked at me.
“And you’re the trustee.”
“Yes.”
His eyes filled with disbelief.
“You planned this.”
I shook my head.
“Your father did.”
The room became painfully quiet.
I remembered the last time I had spoken to Richard’s father.
