Chapter 5 - THE MARRIAGE HE PLANNED BEFORE WE MET
“He planned it.”
I said the words aloud, but I still struggled to believe them.
My father sat beside me while Caspian examined the photograph.
Julian had met my mother long before he met me.
He had lied about it.
He had hidden his connection to Eleanor.
And now we knew my mother had taken steps to protect her children from a husband who might try to claim their inheritance.
“Why would Mom suspect someone I hadn't even met?” I asked.
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“She didn't know you would marry Julian. She was protecting you from anyone who might marry you for financial access.”
“Then why write his name?”
“We need to establish when that was added.”
I closed my eyes.
For three years, I had defended Julian.
When friends said he was controlling, I said he worried about me.
When he discouraged me from visiting my family, I said we needed independence.
When he made jokes about my supposedly humble background, I told myself he was simply proud of his success.
I had explained away so much that I'd stopped recognizing myself.
Caspian placed the photograph on the dresser.
“There's something else.”
He opened his laptop.
“Vance Meridian was struggling before Julian met you.”
I frowned.
“His company was doing well.”
“That's what he told investors.”
Caspian turned the screen toward me.
“Three years ago, he was close to losing his principal financing. Then an anonymous trust acquired a major position in one of his holding companies.”
“Whose trust?”
“We believe it was linked to Eleanor.”
My stomach tightened.
“So she financed him?”
“Possibly. But there's a condition attached to the original investment.”
He enlarged a scanned transaction summary.
One line stood out.
CONTINGENT UPON BENEFICIARY ACCESS EVENT.
“What does that mean?”
“It could refer to someone gaining access to protected funds.”
I looked at my father.
“You think that someone was me.”
He didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Later that morning, I insisted on visiting my old apartment.
Not the penthouse.
The small apartment I'd rented before marrying Julian.
I still owned it.
He had always hated the place.
He called it a reminder of the woman I used to be.
Caspian accompanied me.
The apartment smelled faintly of dust and old books.
Everything was exactly as I'd left it.
A faded green sofa.
A crooked bookshelf.
A photograph of Mom on the windowsill.
And the little wooden desk where I'd once written letters to myself.
I opened the bottom drawer.
Inside were photographs from the first months of my relationship.
Julian and me at a street fair.
Julian and me in Central Park.
Julian smiling beside a birthday cake.
Then I found something that made my hands shake.
A bookstore receipt.
Dated the afternoon we first met.
I remembered keeping it because I'd written his phone number on the back.
But beside the receipt was a small cream envelope.
I didn't remember seeing it before.
Inside was a handwritten invitation to a private financial-planning seminar.
The seminar had taken place at the bookstore.
The sponsor was a company called Vale Advisory Partners.
Eleanor's company.
Julian hadn't simply wandered into the bookstore.
He had been attending an event connected to Eleanor.
I sat heavily on the sofa.
Caspian crouched in front of me.
“Aara?”
“He was there because of her.”
“Maybe.”
I shook my head.
“I remember asking why he was carrying a folder with investment charts. He told me he'd come from work.”
Caspian examined the invitation.
On the back was a handwritten seating assignment.
J. VANCE — TABLE 4.
Beneath it:
A. DEVO — EXPECTED ATTENDANCE.
I stared.
My name had been on the organizer's list.
Even though I'd registered under my mother's maiden name.
Caspian looked grim.
“This was arranged.”
I felt tears rise.
“But why would Eleanor go to so much trouble?”
Before he could answer, I remembered something.
During our second date, Julian had asked whether I still wore my mother's necklace.
I'd laughed.
I'd said he must have mistaken me for someone else.
He apologized immediately.
I hadn't thought about it again.
Now I understood.
He had been searching for something.
I looked toward the photograph of Mom.
“Her necklace.”
Caspian frowned.
“What about it?”
“Julian asked me about it before he knew my full name.”
My brother's expression changed.
“Maybe it wasn't just jewelry.”
We returned to the Devo residence carrying the old photographs and invitation.
Dad was waiting with the family archivist.
She had found a description of the emerald necklace in my grandmother's estate records.
It was made in Paris.
A detachable emerald pendant.
A concealed clasp.
And one unusual feature.
A hollow gold compartment behind the largest stone.
The archivist looked at me.
“Mrs. Devo used that compartment to carry a tiny folded photograph.”
“What photograph?”
She hesitated.
Then she placed an enlarged image on the table.
It showed my mother wearing the necklace shortly before her death.
Behind the emerald, barely visible, was a folded strip of paper.
Dad leaned closer.
The archivist spoke quietly.
“Mrs. Devo told me the necklace held the location of something she wanted her daughter to find when she was old enough.”
I looked at the photograph.
Then at my father.
“What did she leave me?”
His face had gone pale.
May you like
“Aara,” he said, “your mother believed someone inside our own family was stealing from us.”
And for the first time, my brother Caspian looked frightened.
