Chapter 8 - THE SIGNATURE THAT TOOK AWAY HER VOICE
“The morning after the funeral?”
Denise nodded.
I stared at the credit union records.
Lucia DeLuca had barely been buried when money borrowed under my stolen identity was transferred into Vincent Orsini's company.
It wasn't proof that Vincent had forged my name himself.
But it proved something important.
Gavin hadn't simply stolen money for his own gambling debts.
Somebody had benefited from those loans.
And that somebody was still working inside the DeLuca mansion.
I requested certified copies of the loan records and completed another identity-theft dispute.
Denise explained that the lenders would need to investigate before correcting the balances.
I signed every form.
For years, I'd been ashamed of that debt.
Now I wanted my name on every complaint.
Not because I owed the money.
Because I wanted the record to show that I had fought it.
When I returned to the mansion, Roman was waiting in the library.
Elena sat beside him.
Ruth Calder had joined them by video.
I laid the credit union records on the table.
Roman examined the transfers.
“Vincent controlled the receiving account.”
“Yes.”
“And Gavin processed the loans.”
“Yes.”
Elena looked at me.
“Then Vincent knew what your husband was doing.”
“That's what we need to prove,” I said.
Ruth adjusted her glasses.
“We've found something else.”
She displayed a spreadsheet.
Over the previous three years, Lakeshore Recovery Services had received more than $180,000 for Elena's supposed rehabilitation.
Another group of providers had collected hundreds of thousands in questionable reimbursements.
The money had moved through accounts linked to South Harbor.
Vincent had financial authority over both companies.
Roman stared at the screen.
“I paid separate medical bills for Elena myself.”
Ruth nodded.
“Which means these foundation charges were not paying for the services you funded.”
Elena's voice was quiet.
“They were paying for a life I never had.”
No one answered.
Then she asked, “How many other people?”
Ruth sighed.
“We're still counting.”
That question changed everything.
Until then, Roman had been thinking about betrayal within his family.
Elena was thinking about people who might have lost the help her mother intended for them.
“We need to stop the payments,” she said.
Roman nodded.
“Immediately.”
“And notify the other trustees.”
Ruth hesitated.
“Vincent has already contacted them.”
Elena froze.
“What?”
“He requested an emergency review of your authority to participate in foundation decisions.”
Roman's expression turned dangerous.
“On what grounds?”
Ruth looked uncomfortable.
“He claims recent events show you're vulnerable to outside influence.”
I felt my face burn.
“He means me.”
“He specifically mentions a new employee with financial difficulties,” Ruth said.
Elena laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“He stole my signature, and now he's claiming I can't make decisions because I noticed?”
Roman stood.
“I'm ending this.”
Elena reached for his arm.
“No.”
He turned.
“Let me handle it.”
“No, Roman. That's exactly what he wants.”
She looked toward Ruth.
“Schedule the meeting. I'll speak for myself.”
Ruth nodded.
“I'll contact the independent trustee.”
That afternoon, Vincent came to the mansion without his usual pastries.
He carried a slim black folder.
Roman met him in the dining room.
I was arranging silverware nearby when Vincent noticed me.
“Miss Turner,” he said. “You've become very involved in family matters.”
I kept working.
“Only the ones involving my name.”
His expression tightened.
Roman placed the financial records in front of him.
“Explain the transfers.”
Vincent examined them.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he sighed.
“South Harbor had serious cash-flow problems. I was trying to keep the transportation program operating.”
“With money borrowed under someone else's identity?”
“I didn't create those loans.”
“Gavin processed them,” Roman said.
“And Gavin was dishonest. You've established that.”
Vincent looked toward me.
“I'm sorry for what happened to you, Maya.”
“Then return the money.”
His eyes hardened.
“It's not that simple.”
“It was simple enough to take.”
Roman stepped between us.
Vincent slowly closed the folder.
“You're making a dangerous mistake, Roman. If outsiders examine every company account connected to the foundation, they may ask questions about operations you would prefer to keep private.”
Roman's face became unreadable.
There it was.
Not an outright threat.
Something worse.
A reminder that Roman's own business could make exposing Vincent expensive.
For a moment, I wondered whether Roman would choose his empire over his sister.
Then Elena entered the dining room.
“Show me what you brought.”
Vincent hesitated.
“Elena, this is between your brother and me.”
“No. It concerns my future.”
She held out her hand.
Vincent gave her the folder.
Inside was a copy of a foundation authorization from three years earlier.
It stated that Elena was temporarily unable to participate in complex financial decisions during her rehabilitation.
Vincent had used that authorization to justify managing her foundation responsibilities.
At the bottom was Roman's signature.
Elena read it twice.
Then she looked up.
“Roman?”
He approached.
The color drained from his face.
“I signed that while you were in the hospital.”
Elena's eyes filled.
“You told me it was temporary.”
“It was supposed to be.”
Vincent spoke softly.
“It was never formally withdrawn.”
Elena looked back at the page.
Roman had written a short statement beside his signature.
She read it aloud.
“Elena is not presently capable of managing her financial affairs.”
Silence filled the room.
Then she folded the paper carefully.
For three years, she had believed Vincent spoke for her because Roman wanted to protect her.
Now she understood how that protection had been turned into a weapon.
May you like
She held the page toward her brother.
“You didn't just let Vincent take Mom's papers, Roman. You gave him the words he used to take away my choices.”
