Chapter 2 - The Red Folder
At 7:10 the next morning, I walked into Aurelia's boardroom carrying coffee and a court summons.
Julian was already there.
So was Camilla.
That was interesting because communications directors did not normally attend emergency forensic sessions.
"Why is she here?" I asked.
Julian leaned back in his chair.
"Because this is still my company."
Malcolm entered behind me.
"Actually, it belongs to the shareholders."
Julian's smile vanished.
I sat at the head of the table but did not open my laptop.
Every device in the room had been collected for imaging.
Northstar's acquisition agreement gave us that right after closing if a material-control review was triggered.
Julian hated that clause when he read it six weeks earlier.
He just hadn't known I was on the other side of it.
Leah began.
"Before we discuss operations, the board needs to address Mr. Mercer's filing."
Julian's attorney, Richard Bell, slid a binder across the table.
"My client is not challenging Northstar's corporate existence. He is asserting that Mrs. Mercer used marital assets, confidential spousal information, and undisclosed beneficial interests to acquire control."
I opened the binder.
The first exhibit was my family's trust agreement.
The second was a Northstar capitalization table.
The third was a financing schedule created less than twenty-four hours ago.
I stopped reading.
"Where did you get this?"
Richard smiled.
"Discovery will determine what is authentic."
"That is not an answer."
Julian folded his hands.
"Maybe you're not as private as you thought."
The cap table was not public.
Only seven people at Northstar had access.
The financing schedule had been finalized after I left Boston for the gala.
Julian could not have gotten it from an old laptop, our home network, or a careless document left on a printer.
Someone had sent it to him.
Someone inside Northstar.
I closed the binder.
"My lawyers will answer your filing."
"They have forty-eight hours," Richard said.
"They'll need less."
Camilla smiled.
"Confidence looks good on you, Nora."
I looked at my mother's earrings on her ears.
"So do stolen diamonds."
Her hand rose automatically.
The room noticed.
Julian's face hardened.
"Don't start."
"I didn't. I opened my jewelry box."
Malcolm cut in before the meeting became a divorce hearing.
"Enough. Ethan?"
Ethan opened the red folder.
The first vendor was Meridian Strategic Services.
It had received $5.2 million for "market-entry support" during Aurelia's failed Southwest expansion.
No employees.
No tax payroll.
No real office.
The registered manager was a twenty-nine-year-old man named Evan Price.
Camilla did not move.
I did.
I turned toward her.
"Your brother?"
She smiled faintly.
"Half brother."
"Does that make the conflict half as serious?"
Julian looked at her.
"You told me Meridian was an outside consortium."
Camilla's eyes stayed on me.
"It was."
"Owned by your brother?"
"Managed by him. There's a difference."
Ethan slid another page forward.
"The beneficial ownership declaration says otherwise."
For the first time, Julian looked genuinely surprised.
That mattered.
He had signed the payments.
But maybe he had not known every layer.
I had not decided whether that made him less guilty or merely more arrogant.
The second vendor led to an empty Delaware LLC.
The third shared a bank with Meridian.
The fourth had received $2.3 million and then transferred almost the exact amount into an investment account carrying my name.
Nora Vance Mercer.
I stared at the page.
"That's not my account."
Richard Bell leaned forward.
"Interesting."
Julian looked at me as if he had finally found oxygen.
"You sure?"
I did not answer him.
Ethan did.
"The account was opened with a digital signature and a scan of Ms. Vance's driver's license."
My stomach tightened.
The license scan came from a file I knew.
Our joint mortgage application.
Julian had access to it.
Camilla did not.
At least she shouldn't have.
I looked at my husband.
"Did you open this?"
His face shifted from triumph to anger.
"No."
"Did you give anyone my identification documents?"
"No."
Camilla spoke before he could say more.
"This is turning into theater."
Ethan ignored her.
"There is one more issue."
He slid a printout toward me.
"The account was accessed from an IP address registered to your home in Westlake."
The room went quiet.
Julian stared at the page.
Then at me.
Only two people had lived in that house.
May you like
And one of us had just spent the night at a hotel because she no longer trusted the other enough to sleep under the same roof.
