Chapter 3 - The Man Beside Me
I had known Julian Voss for thirteen years.
He had attended my first wife’s funeral.
He had carried Maya when she was four years old and too tired to walk from the cemetery to the car.
He had stood beside me when Hart Global nearly collapsed during the recession.
I had called him family.
At six the next morning, Marcus placed Julian’s access history on the hospital conference room table.
He had downloaded Maya’s trust records seventeen times.
He had accessed corporate succession documents.
He had opened my life insurance file.
And three weeks earlier, he had reviewed the emergency voting provisions that would take effect if I became incapacitated.
Rebecca stared at the screen.
“This was never just about Maya’s money.”
“No.”
“They were positioning themselves around everything you own.”
I thought about the acquisition.
Half a billion dollars.
If I signed the final agreement, Hart Global would absorb Riverton Systems.
The transaction required bridge financing.
Julian had arranged that financing personally.
“Call the bank.”
Rebecca did.
The answer came fifteen minutes later.
The bridge lender was a private fund called Bellweather Capital Partners.
I had never heard of it.
Rebecca searched the ownership records.
The managing partner was hidden behind three shell companies.
Marcus was faster.
He traced one of the entities to a residential address in Connecticut.
The property belonged to Isabella’s brother.
My stomach turned.
“So the financing came from her family.”
“Partly.”
Rebecca looked closer.
“There’s another beneficial owner.”
“Who?”
She rotated the laptop.
Julian Voss.
I understood immediately.
The acquisition was not merely a corporate deal.
It was a trap.
If Hart Global failed to meet specific post-closing covenants, Bellweather could seize pledged shares.
Julian had written those covenants.
I had approved the broad financing structure without personally reviewing every secondary provision because I trusted my CFO.
That trust could have cost me the company.
Marcus leaned back.
“They needed you to sign today.”
“And Isabella wanted me to add her to the deed.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Mansion.”
“Company.”
“Maya’s trust.”
“Everything.”
The hospital room door opened.
A detective entered.
“Nathan Hart?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Carmen Ruiz.”
She showed her badge.
“We served a search warrant at your residence.”
“Did you arrest Isabella?”
“She was detained briefly.”
“Briefly?”
“Her attorney arrived.”
Rebecca’s expression tightened.
“Who is representing her?”
The detective checked her notes.
“Franklin Voss.”
I stared at her.
“Julian’s brother.”
Detective Ruiz nodded.
“He argued that the footage did not establish immediate criminal intent regarding the child.”
“She starved my daughter.”
“We have an active investigation.”
“She drugged her.”
“We are waiting on confirmatory toxicology.”
“She threatened her.”
“I understand.”
My anger rose.
Ruiz did not flinch.
“But I need you to understand something too.”
She placed an evidence bag on the table.
Inside was a small spiral notebook.
Pink cover.
A silver star sticker on the front.
Maya’s handwriting filled the pages.
“We found this beneath a loose floorboard in her bedroom.”
My throat tightened.
“What is it?”
“Her diary.”
I did not touch it.
Ruiz opened to a marked page.
Maya had written one sentence over and over.
Daddy will believe Isabella.
Underneath it was another.
I have to be good until Dad signs the papers.
Rebecca looked at me.
“What papers?”
Ruiz turned three pages.
Maya had drawn a picture.
Three stick figures.
Me.
Isabella.
Julian.
Beneath them, she had written something she apparently overheard.
After Friday, Maya goes away.
I stared at the words.
May you like
Friday was tomorrow.
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