Chapter 6 - THE FIRE IN CHLOE’S APARTMENT
By the time firefighters contained the blaze, almost everything inside Chloe’s apartment had been destroyed.
The official cause was not immediately known.
The timing was impossible to ignore.
Chloe stood across the street wrapped in a borrowed emergency blanket.
Julian watched from a distance.
He had insisted on coming.
Not because he had forgiven her.
Because he understood that whatever Chloe had been part of was now becoming dangerous to everyone involved.
Including her.
A detective approached us.
“The fire appears to have started in the bedroom.”
“Electrical?”
“Too early.”
“Anyone inside?”
“No.”
Chloe stepped forward.
“My laptop.”
The detective looked at her.
“What about it?”
“It was in the bedroom.”
I understood immediately.
“Trophies?”
I asked.
She stared at me.
“What?”
“The hidden drawer.”
Her face changed.
“You searched my room.”
“The police did.”
Chloe looked toward Julian.
He said nothing.
I continued.
“We found the Cross family key.”
“The photograph labeled Mason.”
“The watch.”
She lowered her head.
“Victor made me keep those.”
“Why?”
“He called them reminders.”
“Reminders of what?”
“What happens when people underestimate us.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Who is Mason?”
Chloe closed her eyes.
“Another man.”
“Did you marry him too?”
“No.”
“Did you love him?”
“No.”
“Did you love Ethan Cross?”
“No.”
“Did you love me?”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
Julian’s face remained still.
I wondered whether that answer hurt more than if she had said no.
If Chloe was telling the truth, love had not stopped her.
That was worse.
The next morning, preliminary analysis confirmed accelerant had been found inside the apartment.
Arson.
Victor became the obvious suspect.
But obvious suspects are often useful because they direct attention away from someone else.
Daniel continued following Bernard.
We finally found him at a private club in Manhattan.
He was not hiding.
That surprised me.
He agreed to meet.
That surprised me more.
Bernard Shaw looked almost exactly as I remembered him.
White hair.
Perfect suit.
Soft voice.
The confidence of a man who always believed the room underestimated him.
He entered Margaret’s conference room smiling.
“Caroline.”
“Bernard.”
“Still collecting enemies?”
“Only persistent ones.”
He sat.
Julian remained standing.
Bernard looked at him.
“You became your father.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“You don’t get to talk about him.”
Bernard raised his eyebrows.
“Then why invite me?”
“I invited you.”
I sat across from him.
“Why are you paying Victor Hale?”
Bernard smiled.
“I consult.”
“For fraud?”
“For asset recovery.”
“Whose assets?”
“Clients’.”
“Is Chloe your client?”
“No.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Then why two hundred eighty thousand dollars?”
Bernard leaned back.
“Because Victor helped recover information stolen from me.”
Margaret almost laughed.
“What information?”
“Old files.”
“What files?”
“Vance files.”
The room became silent.
I stared at him.
“You kept copies.”
“Your husband instructed me to.”
“That’s a lie.”
Bernard smiled.
“Henry kept many things from you.”
Julian stepped forward.
“Don’t.”
Bernard looked at him.
“Your father loved your mother.”
“But loving someone does not mean telling them everything.”
I felt anger rise.
“What did Henry hide?”
Bernard placed a folder on the table.
Margaret immediately stopped me from touching it.
“We need to know what that is.”
“Copies.”
“Of?”
“Amendments.”
My heart began beating harder.
“What amendments?”
“To the family trust.”
Margaret stared at him.
“There were no amendments after 2011.”
Bernard smiled.
“Not in your file.”
I looked at him.
“What are you claiming?”
“That Henry changed his estate plan three months before he died.”
“That is false.”
“Is it?”
“Why would you have the only copy?”
“I didn’t.”
“Where is the original?”
“Missing.”
Julian stepped closer.
“You expect us to believe my father secretly changed his trust and only you knew?”
Bernard looked at him.
“I expect nothing.”
“I came because Caroline asked.”
I opened the folder.
Inside was a photocopied document.
The signature resembled Henry’s.
So did the initials.
The amendment created a strange conditional distribution.
If Julian married before turning thirty-three, a portion of specific private holdings could be converted into a marital investment vehicle after his birthday.
Margaret read it twice.
“This contradicts his entire estate structure.”
Bernard shrugged.
“People change their minds.”
“This signature could be forged.”
“Then test it.”
I looked at Bernard.
“Why would Chloe need to marry Julian before September?”
“Because after his birthday the condition closes.”
Margaret stared at the document.
I suddenly understood.
The deadline was not merely about protections expiring.
If the amendment were genuine, marriage before thirty-three opened a separate door.
“How much?”
I asked.
Bernard smiled.
“Depending on valuation?”
He looked at Julian.
“Approximately eighty-six million dollars.”
Julian went pale.
“And you told Victor.”
“I told no one anything improper.”
“Stop lying.”
Bernard remained calm.
Julian slammed one hand on the table.
“You selected me.”
“You fed them information.”
“You helped Chloe get near me.”
Bernard’s smile disappeared.
“Be careful.”
“No.”
“You be careful.”
Julian leaned over the table.
“You thought I was a child.”
“You thought I was lonely.”
“You thought you could put a beautiful woman in front of me and walk away with eighty-six million dollars.”
Bernard slowly stood.
“Your father understood that emotion makes men weak.”
I stood too.
“Get out.”
He looked at me.
“We aren’t finished.”
“Yes, we are.”
“You should authenticate the amendment first.”
“We will.”
Bernard buttoned his jacket.
Then he looked at Julian.
“There is something else your mother should authenticate.”
I froze.
“What?”
He smiled slightly.
“Your father’s signature on your birth acknowledgment.”
Julian stared at him.
The insult was so calculated I almost slapped him.
Margaret stepped between us.
“This meeting is over.”
Bernard walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he looked back.
“You think Chloe was the deception.”
“She was only the bait.”
The door closed.
Julian did not move.
I turned toward him.
“Do not listen to him.”
He stared at the floor.
“He wanted that to hurt.”
“It’s nonsense.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
My answer came instantly.
Julian looked at me.
“Dad was my father?”
I walked directly to him.
“Yes.”
“Biologically?”
“Yes.”
“Without question?”
“Yes.”
He studied my face.
Then he nodded.
But Bernard had accomplished exactly what he wanted.
He had placed doubt inside the room.
Margaret sent the alleged amendment to a forensic document examiner.
Results would take time.
Daniel investigated the notary.
The notary named on the document had died eight years earlier.
Convenient.
By evening, police found evidence that someone had entered Chloe’s apartment twenty minutes before the fire.
A nearby traffic camera captured a dark sedan.
The plate was unreadable.
But the driver’s face appeared briefly beneath a streetlight.
It was not Victor.
It was Bernard Shaw.
Chloe stared at the image.
“He burned it.”
“Why?”
I asked.
“My laptop.”
“What was on the laptop?”
She looked at Julian.
“Everything.”
“Everything what?”
“Victor’s records.”
“Bernard’s messages.”
“Targets.”
“Accounts.”
Julian leaned forward.
“You kept copies?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Where?”
She swallowed.
“The laptop.”
I stared at her.
“You said the laptop burned.”
“The physical laptop did.”
I waited.
Chloe’s eyes moved to me.
“The backup didn’t.”
“Where is it?”
She hesitated.
“Somewhere Victor can’t reach.”
“Where?”
Before she answered, Marcus called me.
His voice was tense.
“Mrs. Vance.”
“What?”
“We have a breach at the north gate.”
“Who?”
“A vehicle rammed the secondary barrier.”
“Where is Julian?”
I looked beside me.
He was there.
“Inside.”
“Lock the house down.”
The line went dead.
Seconds later, alarms began screaming throughout the mansion.
May you like
And from the security monitor, I watched a black SUV tear across my front drive.
Straight toward the house.
