Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF PROTECTING MY SISTER
"Seventeen documents?"
I stared at Marcus.
"Someone used my name seventeen times, and nobody noticed?"
Anthony didn't answer immediately.
That frightened me more than anything Victoria had said in the ballroom.
Finally, he looked at his security director.
"Lock down Megan's credentials. Preserve the access records. And find out exactly how these documents reached the bank."
Marcus nodded.
I stepped back.
"I need to call Lily."
Anthony shook his head gently.
"Marcus is bringing her here with the shelter director."
I stared at him.
"To your house?"
"To somewhere she can explain what happened without being intimidated."
I wanted to believe him.
But thirty minutes earlier, his own signature had appeared on the documents threatening my sister's home.
"Mr. Castellano, with respect, your family created this disaster."
He didn't argue.
"You're right."
Those two words surprised me.
For fourteen months, I'd known Anthony as a man who expected immediate obedience.
Now he stood before me looking exhausted.
"I trusted my brother because he was my brother," he said. "That doesn't excuse what happened."
Rose reached across the desk and squeezed my hand.
"You're allowed to be angry, Megan."
I swallowed hard.
"I don't care about being angry. I care about Lily having somewhere to sleep."
Just before midnight, Lily arrived.
She wore her faded blue college sweatshirt and carried a small overnight bag.
When she saw me, she hurried across the study.
I held her so tightly she laughed nervously.
"Meg, I can't breathe."
I loosened my arms.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded.
Then I noticed something sticking out of her bag.
A white envelope bearing the Castellano Family Foundation logo.
"What is that?"
Lily hesitated.
"Just paperwork."
"Let me see."
She reluctantly handed it over.
Inside was a fifty-dollar grocery card and a two-page form titled Resident Participation Agreement.
The second page contained Lily's signature.
I read the paragraph above it.
The undersigned acknowledges support for future relocation and redevelopment initiatives.
My heart sank.
"Lily, why did you sign this?"
Her face reddened.
"They told us it was for emergency repairs."
"Who told you?"
"A woman from the foundation."
"Victoria?"
"No. Mr. Christopher came with her."
Anthony looked up sharply.
Christopher had personally visited the shelter?
Lily continued.
"He said they were finally fixing the plumbing and broken stairs. He told us signing would help release the renovation grant."
"What renovation grant?" I asked.
"The three hundred thousand dollars."
I felt sick.
The same grant the shelter director had said never arrived.
Lily's eyes filled.
"Did I do something wrong?"
I caught her hands.
"No. Someone misled you."
"But I signed it."
"That doesn't make their explanation true."
The shelter director, Natalie Brooks, stepped forward.
She was a tired-looking woman in her fifties.
"I attended that meeting," Natalie said. "Christopher assured us the residents would stay during construction."
Anthony took the form.
"Did he provide a construction schedule?"
"No."
"Names of contractors?"
"No."
"Did you receive any of the renovation money?"
Natalie shook her head.
"Not one dollar."
Marcus returned with another folder.
"Sir, there's something you need to see."
He placed a building inspection report on the desk.
The shelter's rear staircase had serious structural damage.
The report was dated three months earlier.
Natalie stared at it.
"I've never seen that."
Marcus turned another page.
"The city sent a repair notice to the property manager. The foundation received a copy."
"Victoria?" Anthony asked.
"Her office acknowledged it."
I looked toward Lily.
She slept on the second floor.
The damaged staircase was the one she used every morning.
"How dangerous is it?" I whispered.
Marcus spoke carefully.
"An engineer needs to assess it immediately. Nobody should use that staircase until then."
Anthony ordered a licensed engineer to inspect the building and arranged hotel rooms for residents who needed to move temporarily.
But Natalie kept studying the report.
"Three months ago," she said quietly. "We kept asking for repairs."
She turned to Anthony.
"One resident fell on that staircase last month. We thought nobody at the foundation knew."
Rose closed her eyes.
Then Marcus found the renovation grant's payment record.
The entire $300,000 had supposedly been transferred six weeks earlier.
Not to Natalie.
Not to the shelter.
To a contractor called Harbor Street Works.
Anthony opened the vendor profile.
The company's mailing address was identical to Harborbridge Advisory's.
I watched his expression darken.
Christopher hadn't merely stolen money from a charity.
He'd withheld repairs from a building full of women who trusted his family's foundation.
Then Marcus clicked on the contractor's payment history.
Three hundred thousand dollars had entered the account.
Less than twenty-four hours later, the money had been moved again.
Into a financial institution that also held a secured loan against two properties.
Harbor Street Shelter.
And Ava Castellano's house.
Marcus looked up.
"Sir, the loan isn't for three hundred thousand dollars."
Anthony stared at the screen.
May you like
"How much?"
"Eighteen million."
Related Stories
