Chapter 2 - THE THREE-POINT-SEVEN-MILLION-DOLLAR SECRET
By midnight, the yacht was docked.
The guests departed in uncomfortable silence, carrying stories they would repeat at every dinner party in Seattle.
Grant tried to leave with his parents, but I stopped him at the gangway.
"Tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock. My office."
He gave me an incredulous look.
"You expect me to attend a business meeting after what you did tonight?"
I folded my arms.
"What I did was refuse to marry you. What happens tomorrow depends on what you've done with my company's money."
Vivian stepped between us.
"Claire, this is a private family matter."
"Then your family should stop charging its private expenses to my company."
Her expression changed.
Richard Mercer pulled her away before she could answer.
Grant leaned closer.
"You don't know what you're getting into."
It sounded like a threat.
I smiled without warmth.
"Then explain it to me tomorrow."
He walked away.
I remained on the yacht until the crew finished cleaning the deck. The flowers were still arranged around the railing. A champagne flute lay overturned beside the microphone.
I had imagined this evening many times.
In my fantasies, Grant would kneel, I would cry, and we would celebrate the beginning of our marriage.
Instead, I sat alone beneath the lights and wondered whether any part of our relationship had been real.
Dana arrived at my apartment shortly after one in the morning.
She carried two laptops and a stack of printed reports.
"I've been reviewing the Pier Nine accounts for six weeks," she said.
I stared at her.
"Six weeks?"
"I found irregularities, but I couldn't establish whether they were accounting errors or unauthorized payments. Tonight's jewelry invoice connected everything."
She opened a spreadsheet.
The first page listed expenses charged to the development company.
Luxury apartment rental: $480,000.
Private aviation: $612,000.
Personal styling and jewelry: $396,000.
Marketing payments to Mercer House Media: $1.1 million.
Payments to vendors connected to Lila's failed lifestyle company: $780,000.
The figures were preliminary, and some expenses might have had legitimate business purposes. But the pattern was alarming.
"Who authorized these payments?" I asked.
"Some were approved using your electronic credentials. Others were authorized by Grant."
"I never approved a private apartment."
"I know."
She displayed the approval records.
The digital authorization associated with the apartment had been created while I was attending a conference in London.
My signature appeared beneath it.
I had never seen the document.
"Someone copied my credentials."
"That's what it looks like."
I sat back.
"Could Grant have done it?"
"Possibly. But we need technical evidence before accusing anyone."
I appreciated Dana's caution.
Anger made it easy to jump to conclusions. I wanted facts that could survive a courtroom, not merely suspicions that sounded convincing.
"What about the ring?"
"The jeweler's invoice was submitted through a subsidiary of Mercer Urban Development. It was classified as a promotional expense."
"Promotional for whom?"
"Lila."
Dana displayed an email.
Grant had written to the jeweler two weeks earlier.
Please ensure the ring is adjusted to Lila's measurements. Claire doesn't need to know until the proposal.
I read it twice.
My hands began to shake.
He had planned it.
He had known the ring would be on his sister's finger when he proposed to me.
The humiliation had not been an accident.
"Why?" I whispered.
Dana hesitated.
"I don't know yet."
Then she opened another file.
The payment to Mercer House Media had been made in six installments. The company claimed to provide branding services for Pier Nine.
But its registered business address belonged to a private mailbox.
Its listed director was Lila.
And its largest expense was a $900,000 transfer to a company in the Cayman Islands.
"Can you trace the recipient?" I asked.
"Not without additional records. But we have enough to request a formal audit and suspend unverified payments under the investment agreement."
I nodded.
"Do it."
Dana studied me.
"Claire, there's something else. Grant's team has already contacted the bank. They're asking whether the payment freeze can be reversed."
I laughed bitterly.
"They haven't even reached the office."
"They may have anticipated this."
That possibility chilled me.
Perhaps Grant had known I would discover the expenses eventually.
Perhaps the proposal was an attempt to secure our marriage before the audit progressed.
Or perhaps the ring was intended to humiliate me into accepting a relationship in which his family always came first.
I didn't know.
But I intended to find out.
At eight thirty the next morning, Grant arrived at my office with his attorney.
He wore a navy suit and carried a leather folder.
He looked as though he had slept peacefully.
"Claire," he said, offering a careful smile.
I didn't stand.
"Sit down."
His attorney introduced himself, then explained that Grant wished to resolve the dispute privately.
"Before we discuss resolution," I said, "I want an explanation for the $3.7 million in irregular expenses."
Grant sighed.
"You make it sound criminal."
"I haven't called it criminal. I've called it irregular."
"The hotel has complicated finances."
"Hotels don't require $280,000 engagement rings."
His attorney shifted in his chair.
Grant rubbed his forehead.
"The ring was a family matter."
"Paid for with development funds."
"I intended to reimburse the company."
"When?"
"When the hotel opened."
"With what money?"
He stared at me.
I opened the folder Dana had prepared.
"Who authorized the Manhattan apartment?"
Grant's jaw tightened.
"It was temporary housing for Lila while she developed the brand campaign."
"She lives in Seattle."
"She was working in New York."
"Her company was bankrupt."
"She was trying to rebuild."
I closed the folder.
"Why did you forge my approval?"
"I didn't forge anything."
"Then help me understand why the approval was created while I was overseas and why the system records show a login from your office."
For the first time, Grant looked genuinely worried.
His attorney leaned toward him.
"Do not answer until we've reviewed the technical records."
I nodded.
"Fine. Then we have nothing further to discuss today."
Grant stood abruptly.
"You can't destroy my company over a misunderstanding."
"I haven't destroyed anything. I've frozen discretionary funding while we investigate."
"You promised me the capital."
"I promised to invest in a hotel. I never promised to finance your sister's lifestyle."
He leaned over the table.
"You will regret humiliating me."
I met his eyes.
"No, Grant. I regret trusting you."
He left without another word.
After the meeting, Dana brought me the latest report.
A new transfer had been attempted that morning.
$650,000.
The destination account belonged to a company registered in Nevada.
Its director was Richard Mercer, Grant's father.
And the payment description contained three words:
FINAL EQUITY DISTRIBUTION.
I stared at the document.
The money hadn't left the account.
The bank had flagged the transfer because of our payment freeze.
But someone had been trying to move it.
May you like
And that meant Grant's family was no longer simply explaining questionable expenses.
They were trying to get the money out before we could trace it.
