Chapter 3 - THE SIGNATURE THAT SHOULDN'T EXIST
“That's impossible.”
Julian heard his own voice, but it sounded far away.
Margaret Weiss remained composed.
“Which part, Mr. Thorne?”
“The authorization. I never approved that payment.”
Margaret glanced toward the auction hall.
“Then you should preserve whatever evidence supports that statement.”
“Are you accusing me of fraud?”
“I'm informing you of a discrepancy.”
Julian held up the white card.
“Who else knows?”
“The independent committee. Certain compliance officers. The relevant auditors.”
“Does Anastasia know?”
Margaret paused.
“She knows an investigation is underway. She has not received the restricted evidence packet.”
That mattered.
More than Julian expected.
Three hours earlier, he would have assumed Anastasia orchestrated the entire thing.
Now he was beginning to understand that someone else had constructed a trap.
And he might have helped build it.
Tiffany approached.
“What happened?”
Julian folded the card.
“We need to leave.”
“Leave? The evening isn't over.”
“My career may be.”
Her expression changed.
He told her about the payment.
She listened without interrupting.
Then she asked a question that surprised him.
“Can you prove you didn't authorize it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then don't say anything publicly until you can.”
For once, her advice was sensible.
Julian looked at her.
“Thank you.”
But the warmth disappeared when she added, “And don't let anyone connect my name to this.”
He understood the distinction.
She was protecting herself.
He couldn't entirely blame her.
The person she loved had spent years teaching her that reputation mattered more than everything else.
They were approaching the exit when an older woman appeared beneath the portrait gallery.
Julian stopped.
He recognized her.
Helena.
The elegant woman from their wedding.
The one who had given them silver candlesticks.
She wore a dark-green gown and a small diamond brooch shaped like a winter rose.
“Julian,” she said.
“Helena.”
Her expression was neither friendly nor hostile.
“I wondered whether you would remember me.”
“Of course.”
“Interesting. You never seemed particularly curious about my relationship to Anastasia.”
Julian swallowed.
“Were you her grandmother?”
“I am.”
He stared.
Helena Maria of Caris looked at him with the quiet disappointment of someone examining a poorly repaired antique.
“You never asked.”
“No.”
“And when she told you I had raised her, you never wondered why I lived in Vienna?”
“I suppose not.”
Helena nodded.
“At least you have stopped pretending.”
Tiffany shifted impatiently.
“Could we discuss family history another time?”
Helena turned toward her.
“You must be Miss Brooks.”
“Yes.”
“I've seen your charitable campaigns.”
Tiffany brightened.
“Really?”
“The literacy fundraiser in London. Quite successful.”
“Thank you.”
“My granddaughter's foundation provided the books.”
Tiffany's smile faltered.
“I didn't realize.”
“Few people do. That is generally the point.”
Julian almost smiled.
Anastasia's grandmother was unmistakably related to her.
Helena looked back at him.
“I understand there are difficulties involving your company.”
“Apparently.”
“Then I suggest you speak truthfully tomorrow.”
“Even if the truth destroys me?”
“Especially then.”
She stepped past him.
Then stopped.
“One more thing, Julian. The candlesticks I gave you at your wedding. Do you still have them?”
He hesitated.
“They were included in the divorce.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
Helena's eyes softened.
“Because Anastasia's grandfather gave them to me when we had almost nothing.”
Julian looked at the diamond brooch.
“You had almost nothing?”
“Money is not the only thing a family can lose.”
She left him with that.
Outside, snow was falling over the palace courtyard.
Julian stood beneath the entrance canopy, trying to remember where the silver candlesticks had sat in their Manhattan apartment.
On the windowsill.
Beside Anna's postcards.
He had once suggested replacing them with something modern.
She had refused.
Now he understood why.
Back at their hotel, he opened his laptop.
The authorization code on Margaret's card corresponded to an approval recorded six weeks earlier.
At 11:42 p.m.
On a Thursday.
Julian checked his calendar.
That evening, he had flown from London to Frankfurt.
His laptop had been with him.
But the approval originated from the London office network.
He searched his corporate email archives.
One message stood out.
Richard had requested temporary access to Julian's electronic approval system during the Frankfurt trip.
Julian remembered responding.
Fine. Handle whatever is urgent.
His stomach turned.
He had granted Richard temporary delegated access.
Without specifying limits.
Without properly reviewing the request.
Julian leaned back.
The approval might not be his.
But the negligence certainly was.
Tiffany emerged from the bedroom wearing a silk robe.
“Find anything?”
“Richard had access to my credentials.”
She stopped.
“Can you prove he used them?”
“Maybe.”
“Then you're safe.”
“No.”
He looked at the screen.
“I gave him that access.”
Tiffany stared.
“Why would you do something so stupid?”
Julian almost answered defensively.
Instead, he said, “Because I trusted him and didn't want to slow down the deal.”
She folded her arms.
“Then get him to admit it.”
“He won't.”
“Offer him something.”
Julian closed the laptop.
“That's what people keep doing, isn't it? Offering things. Trading favors. Buying silence.”
“What are you talking about?”
He looked at her.
“Would you still want to marry me if I lost the partnership?”
Tiffany's face changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
“That's an unfair question.”
“It's a simple one.”
She looked toward the window.
“We built our life around certain plans.”
Julian nodded.
There was his answer.
Then Tiffany said something worse.
“Richard told me you'd probably be asking questions tonight.”
Julian went still.
“When?”
“At the reception. Before the auction.”
“What exactly did he say?”
She hesitated.
“He said if you started digging into the Austrian paperwork, I should remind you how much you had to lose.”
Julian stared at his fiancée.
“Did he tell you why?”
“No.”
May you like
Then, after a long silence, she added:
“He also said he had proof that Anastasia knew about the payment before the gala.”
