Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind the Birthday PartyMargaret was the first to recover.
“This is a conspiracy!”
Her voice echoed through the mansion.
She turned toward the guests, her diamond earrings swinging wildly.
“My daughter-in-law has been planning this humiliation for months! She wants to destroy our family!”
I looked at the wet carpet.
The shattered champagne flute.
The expensive furniture.
Then I looked at the woman who'd ordered me to kneel before her.
“No, Margaret. I wanted to save my marriage.”
She laughed bitterly.
“By accusing my children of stealing?”
“By hoping they'd tell me the truth before I had to prove it.”
Daniel suddenly grabbed the documents from the table.
“You've invaded my privacy!”
Mr. Sterling calmly extended his hand.
“Those are certified copies. Destroying them accomplishes nothing.”
My husband looked ready to throw them into the fireplace anyway.
“Daniel,” I said quietly, “don't make this worse.”
He turned toward me with the same furious expression I'd seen countless times before.
“Don't tell me what to do in my own house!”
The words hung between us.
Then he remembered.
It wasn't his house.
His cheeks turned red.
I saw the moment his anger became panic.
“Everybody leave,” he ordered.
Several guests immediately headed toward the entrance.
Others hesitated.
One man, Thomas Hargrove, had been Daniel's business partner for five years.
He approached Mr. Sterling.
“Is Whitmore Holdings under investigation?”
“My client has filed a civil action and referred suspected financial misconduct to the appropriate authorities,” Mr. Sterling replied. “I can't comment further.”
Thomas turned toward Daniel.
“You told me your financing was secure.”
“It is!”
“You also told me your family controlled the property portfolio.”
Daniel didn't answer.
Thomas shook his head.
“You need to call me tomorrow.”
He walked out.
Within minutes, most guests followed.
But Margaret, Vanessa, Daniel, and Richard Whitmore remained.
Richard, my father-in-law, had said almost nothing all evening.
He was seventy, retired, and accustomed to letting his wife dominate every room.
Now he lowered himself into a chair.
“Emily,” he said, “I think we should all calm down.”
I studied him.
Richard had always been kinder to me than the others.
He occasionally defended me when Margaret became particularly cruel.
But he'd never stopped her.
Not once.
“Do you know about Marigold Ventures?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
Margaret spun toward him.
“Richard!”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Don't answer her questions!”
Something passed across his face.
A flicker of suspicion.
“Margaret,” he said slowly, “why shouldn't I answer?”
She ignored him.
Instead, she marched toward me.
“Whatever money you've supposedly brought into this family, you owe us respect!”
I stared at her.
“Respect isn't something you can demand with a bowl of water.”
Her face twisted.
“You ungrateful little—”
“Enough.”
The word came from Richard.
Everyone turned.
He was standing now.
For the first time that evening, his voice sounded like it belonged to the head of a family.
“Margaret, sit down.”
She blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“Sit. Down.”
She obeyed.
I was almost as surprised as she was.
Richard faced Mr. Sterling.
“How much money are we talking about?”
The attorney opened his file.
“Current records indicate approximately eighteen million dollars in transfers that require scrutiny, including more than six million routed through Marigold Ventures.”
Richard slowly removed his glasses.
“Eighteen million?”
Daniel interrupted.
“Those transfers were business arrangements.”
“Then produce the agreements,” Mr. Sterling replied.
“I will!”
“Good. The court will expect them.”
Vanessa started crying.
Not the delicate tears she used when she wanted sympathy.
These were frightened, ugly sobs.
“I didn't know what Daniel was doing!”
My husband swung toward her.
“Shut up!”
Richard looked at his daughter.
“Vanessa, what is Marigold Ventures?”
She covered her face.
Daniel stepped between them.
“Dad, don't.”
Richard pushed past him.
“Answer me.”
Vanessa's mascara streaked down her cheeks.
“It was supposed to be temporary.”
Margaret whispered her name.
Vanessa shook her head.
“Daniel said we'd move the money back before anyone noticed.”
My stomach tightened.
For years, Vanessa had mocked me for buying groceries on sale.
She'd called my father a nobody.
She'd once told me I should be grateful Daniel hadn't married someone with breeding.
Now she'd admitted to helping move millions of dollars that ultimately came from my family.
“Where is the money?” I asked.
She stared at me.
“Vanessa.”
She swallowed.
“Some of it went into the development in Greenwich.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What development?” Richard demanded.
Nobody answered.
I reached into my handbag again.
This time, I removed a photograph.
It showed a sprawling modern house overlooking the Long Island Sound.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
A private dock.
Six bedrooms.
An infinity pool.
I'd first seen it three weeks earlier in a real estate listing.
Then I'd found the purchase paperwork.
I placed the photograph in front of Daniel.
“Recognize this?”
He didn't look.
Margaret suddenly stood.
“Emily, you have no right—”
“Recognize it, Margaret?”
She froze.
I turned the picture around.
Richard leaned forward.
His eyebrows drew together.
“That's the house Daniel said he was developing for a client.”
I nodded.
“That's what he told me, too.”
Vanessa began shaking.
“Emily, please.”
I looked straight at her.
“Who lives there?”
No answer.
“Who lives in the twelve-million-dollar house purchased through a company funded with money from my family's investments?”
Daniel's jaw tightened.
“Don't do this.”
“Tell me.”
His eyes flashed.
“It has nothing to do with you!”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
Then I spoke the name I'd discovered two weeks earlier.
“Lauren Pierce.”
Richard frowned.
“Who's Lauren Pierce?”
Vanessa started crying harder.
Margaret looked away.
And my husband said nothing.
Because Lauren Pierce wasn't a business partner.
She was the woman Daniel had been sleeping with for almost three years.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was what I'd discovered that morning.
Lauren had recently given birth to a baby boy.
And on the child's birth certificate, the father's name was listed as Daniel Andrew Whitmore.
I watched my husband's face.
Then I placed the certificate beside the photograph.
“Congratulations, Daniel,” I whispered. “It's a boy.”
Richard gasped.
Margaret covered her mouth.
And before my husband could say another word, the front doors opened.
A beautiful blonde woman stepped into the mansion carrying a baby.
She looked at me.
May you like
Then at Daniel.
And said, “You promised me she'd be gone by tonight.”
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