“If you’re sitting up, they won’t say what they plan to say,” Marcus explained calmly. “But if you lie down, they’ll assume you’re not here. Then you’ll hear why they’ve been pushing you to sign that paperwork all week.”
The paperwork.
For three days my mother had insisted I sign a “small transfer document” for “family efficiency.” Each time I asked for details, she brushed me off.
Stop being dramatic. It’s a wedding gift.
Marcus handed me a folded blanket. “You deserve to know.”
Fear finally outweighed pride.
I stretched across the back seat, heart pounding, and pulled the blanket over myself. The leather seat felt cold against my cheek as I tried to breathe quietly.
Twenty minutes later, the front doors opened.
The first thing I noticed was my father’s cologne.
Then Daniel’s voice.
“Once we get her signature, the takeover is finalized,” he said calmly.
My breath stopped.
“She’ll sign,” my father—Thomas—replied with a quiet chuckle. “Karen will pressure her. She won’t bother reading it carefully.”
My fingers fumbled for my phone. I opened the voice recorder and pressed it against my chest.
Daniel exhaled slowly. “I just don’t want a scene.”
“There won’t be,” Thomas assured him. “The notary’s meeting us in the suite. We file Monday. By the time she realizes what she signed, the voting shares will already be reassigned.”
Voting shares.
The family company—left under my trusteeship by Grandpa because I was the only one who had actually taken the time to understand how it worked.
Daniel lowered his voice. “And after that, the trust moves to Emily?”
“For now,” my father replied. “We transfer Naomi’s authority to Emily. Karen and I ‘assist’ with oversight until the baby arrives. Naomi’s finished.”
Under the blanket, my lungs burned.
Daniel gave a small hum of approval. “Emily thinks Naomi’s been acting suspicious lately.”
“She’s always been jealous,” Thomas muttered. “The business belongs to the people who show up.”
The SUV slowed as we approached the resort entrance.
“We’re here,” Marcus said evenly.
“Good,” my father answered. “Straight to the bridal suite.”
The car stopped. Marcus stepped out, walked around the back as if checking something, and cracked my door open slightly.
“Now,” he whispered.
I sat up abruptly, the blanket sliding off my shoulders. My hands were shaking, but my voice came out steady.
“Good morning,” I said.
