Chapter 4 - THE PHOTO
“Explain it.”
Raina's voice shook.
Orson looked at the photograph.
Then at Elaine.
Elaine took off her glasses.
That made Raina more nervous.
“Dad.”
Orson sat down.
“I met Lacey once.”
“Once?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She approached me.”
“When?”
“February.”
Raina held up the phone.
“And you never thought to mention that my husband's mistress approached you?”
“At the time, she wasn't his mistress.”
Raina stared at him.
“At least,” Orson corrected, “I didn't know she was.”
“Why did she meet you?”
Orson looked toward the hospital door.
“Because she wanted money.”
“For what?”
“Information.”
Elaine spoke gently.
“Raina, Lacey contacted your father claiming Damon was trying to access Mercer Capital through your marriage.”
Raina looked between them.
“You knew?”
“We suspected.”
“You knew Damon was using me?”
“No,” Orson said. “I knew someone was trying to sell me a story.”
“Did you pay her?”
“No.”
“Did you investigate?”
“Yes.”
“And you found nothing?”
Orson was silent.
Raina understood.
“You found something.”
Elaine stepped in.
“We found Damon had begun meeting with a private lending group.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that doesn't like missed payments.”
Raina's throat tightened.
“How much debt?”
“At least three million.”
“What?”
“Possibly more.”
Raina stared at the ceiling.
Her husband had debt.
A mistress.
Forged documents.
Secret transfers.
And apparently a private life so large she could barely see the edges.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Orson's answer came quickly.
“Because you were pregnant.”
“That doesn't make me stupid.”
“I didn't say it did.”
“You made the decision for me.”
“Yes.”
Raina stared at him.
Orson didn't flinch.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“You sound exactly like Damon.”
That landed.
Hard.
Her father's expression changed.
Raina regretted it immediately.
But she didn't take it back.
Elaine closed the folder.
“You have every right to be angry. But we have a larger problem.”
“What?”
“The photograph came from someone with access to surveillance footage from the Bellamy Hotel.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning someone is trying to divide you from your father.”
Raina looked at the messages again.
A third text arrived.
ASK ORSON WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOTHER'S COMPANY.
Raina froze.
Her mother, Claire Mercer, had died when Raina was nineteen.
Cancer.
Her design company had dissolved months later.
Orson always said there had been too much debt.
Too much emotional baggage.
Too many legal problems.
Raina had never questioned it.
“Dad.”
Orson stood.
“Not now.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What do you mean, not now?”
“You need rest.”
“Oh, no.”
Raina pushed the blanket away.
“Don't do that.”
“Raina.”
“Ask him,” Elaine said quietly.
Orson looked at her.
Elaine held his gaze.
“She's already in this.”
Raina's voice became very soft.
“What happened to Mom's company?”
Orson stared at the floor for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
“I bought it.”
Raina blinked.
“What?”
“Through a holding company.”
“Why?”
“To save the assets.”
“You told me it collapsed.”
“It did.”
“You said everything was sold.”
“It was.”
“To you?”
Orson didn't answer.
Raina felt a wave of disbelief.
“Her designs?”
“Yes.”
“Her trademarks?”
“Yes.”
“The royalty rights?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
Raina's voice cracked.
“And where is it now?”
Orson looked directly at her.
“Inside Mercer Home.”
Raina stopped breathing.
Mercer Home was one of her father's fastest-growing companies.
Furniture.
Textiles.
Interior design.
Luxury home products.
A business valued at nearly half a billion dollars.
Built partly from her mother's work.
“You built a company with Mom's designs?”
“I rebuilt what she started.”
“And you never told me?”
“I planned to.”
“When?”
“When you were ready.”
“I'm thirty-one.”
“I know.”
Raina laughed bitterly.
“Apparently everyone in my life is waiting for me to be ready to hear the truth.”
The phone buzzed again.
One more message.
THIS IS WHY DAMON MARRIED YOU.
Below it was a scanned document.
A royalty transfer agreement.
Signed eighteen months before Raina met Damon.
The beneficiary name made her blood run cold.
DAMON COLE.
Raina looked up.
“Dad…”
Orson stared at the screen.
May you like
And this time, even he had no answer.
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