Chapter 2 - THE LETTER VICTORIA COULDN’T BURN
Alexander read Lauren’s real letter standing beneath the chandeliers his mother had spent nearly half a million dollars renting for one evening.
His daughter remained in his arms.
Sophia’s head rested against his shoulder, but she was not asleep.
He could feel her listening.
Arthur stood beside them.
Victoria stood ten feet away.
And more than two hundred guests had suddenly discovered that champagne glasses could become very heavy when nobody knew where to look.
Alexander unfolded the letter.
The date was three years old.
Two days after he had flown to London.
Alexander,
Your mother gave me until sunset to leave the house.
She says you know.
She says you agree that Sophia and I are damaging the Sterling name and that you want us gone before you return.
I don’t believe her.
I can’t believe her.
I have tried calling you six times. Your office says you are unavailable. Your private number no longer connects.
Please call me.
Please come home.
I will wait at Arthur’s sister’s apartment until Friday.
After that, I don’t know where we will go.
Sophia keeps asking when Daddy is coming home.
I keep telling her soon.
Please make me right.
Lauren.
Alexander stopped reading.
His hand shook.
Not enough for anyone across the ballroom to notice.
Enough for Sophia.
She touched his wrist.
“Daddy?”
“I’m okay.”
Victoria laughed softly.
“Obviously forged.”
Arthur turned toward her.
“You told me to burn it.”
“I told you no such thing.”
“Mother.”
Alexander’s voice stopped them both.
He looked at the bank document stapled behind the letter.
Thirty-six monthly deposits.
Exactly $5,000 each.
Total transferred from Alexander’s personal account:
$180,000.
The receiving account was titled:
STERLING FAMILY EDUCATION RESERVE.
Primary authorized controller:
VICTORIA STERLING.
Secondary:
MALCOLM REEVES.
Alexander knew Malcolm Reeves.
Everyone in the ballroom did.
Sterling family counsel for twenty-two years.
The man who had drafted Alexander’s first will.
The man who sat beside Victoria at every foundation dinner.
Alexander slowly looked toward the table where Malcolm had been seated.
The chair was empty.
“Where is Malcolm?”
Victoria’s face changed.
Only slightly.
Arthur answered.
“He left five minutes ago.”
Alexander handed Sophia to Arthur.
The little girl immediately grabbed his jacket.
“No.”
Alexander stopped.
Sophia looked frightened.
He understood.
Three years of being told her father did not want her did not disappear because he had carried her through one ballroom.
“I’m not leaving you.”
Her grip loosened.
Alexander turned toward one of his security men.
“Find Malcolm Reeves.”
Victoria’s eyes hardened.
“You will not turn my birthday into a criminal investigation.”
Alexander looked at the shattered champagne glass near her feet.
“I think you handled that yourself.”
Several guests looked down.
Victoria stepped closer.
“You are emotional.”
“My daughter was digging food out of hotel garbage.”
“She is being manipulated.”
“By who?”
“Lauren.”
Sophia flinched.
Alexander saw it.
His voice became colder.
“Do not use her mother’s name like that in front of her.”
Victoria stared.
“You know what Lauren was.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“My wife?”
“She was never suited to this family.”
There.
Not denial.
Not really.
Contempt.
Arthur whispered, “Sir.”
He held out another folded sheet.
Alexander took it.
A copy of an internal account statement.
The monthly $5,000 did not remain in the education reserve.
Within forty-eight hours of every deposit, almost all of it was moved elsewhere.
Luxury department stores.
A private club.
A Sterling Foundation event vendor.
A property-management company.
And, three months earlier:
GRAND PLAZA HOTEL EVENTS — $28,400.
Alexander looked up at the giant birthday cake.
His mother’s party.
His daughter’s money had helped pay for it.
Something inside him became still.
Victoria saw his face.
“It’s all explainable.”
“Good.”
Alexander handed the statement to his chief financial officer, Helena Cho, who had pushed through the crowd.
“Explain it to Helena.”
Victoria’s voice sharpened.
“That account contains family funds.”
“It contains my daughter’s money.”
“You gave me control.”
“For Sophia.”
“And I protected her interests.”
Alexander looked at Sophia’s peeling shoe.
“From what? Nutrition?”
A few guests visibly recoiled.
Victoria went white.
“Enough.”
“No.”
Alexander turned toward the room.
He did not raise his voice.
He did not need to.
“My mother’s celebration is over.”
Nobody moved.
Then chairs began scraping.
Victoria stared.
“You cannot dismiss my guests.”
“This hotel contract is in my company’s name.”
Her mouth tightened.
Alexander looked at the event manager.
“Send every invoice for tonight directly to me. Nothing gets paid from any family trust or foundation.”
Helena was already typing.
Victoria stepped toward him.
“You are humiliating me.”
Alexander looked at his daughter.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“Humiliation is a child picking stale bread from a trash bin while her grandmother wears pearls.”
That ended the room.
Guests began leaving.
Some quickly.
Some slowly enough to listen.
Alexander no longer cared.
Sophia whispered, “Daddy.”
He turned instantly.
“Mommy is waiting.”
Everything else disappeared.
“Where?”
Sophia gave him the address.
Bronx.
Basement apartment.
He knew the neighborhood.
He also knew it was almost an hour away.
“Arthur.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come with us.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“You are taking that child nowhere until we discuss this.”
Alexander turned.
That child again.
He looked at his mother.
“Her name is Sophia.”
“I am still her grandmother.”
“Then you should have known whether she was eating.”
Victoria’s face hardened.
“Lauren chose poverty.”
Alexander stopped.
“What?”
“She could have accepted the arrangements I offered.”
“What arrangements?”
Victoria realized she had said too much.
Alexander took one step toward her.
“What did you offer my wife?”
Silence.
Arthur answered.
“Money to disappear.”
Alexander turned.
Arthur’s eyes were wet.
“I drove Mrs. Sterling to a lawyer’s office three days after you left for London. Your mother told her she could have $50,000 if she signed papers agreeing never to contact you again.”
Alexander could barely speak.
“Did Lauren sign?”
“No.”
Victoria snapped, “Arthur!”
He ignored her.
“She tore the papers in half.”
Something almost like pride moved through Alexander’s grief.
Of course she had.
Arthur continued.
“After that, Mrs. Sterling canceled her access cards, removed her from the household accounts and told security she was prohibited from returning.”
Alexander looked at Victoria.
“You made my wife homeless.”
“She had choices.”
“She had a child.”
“She had pride.”
“So did you.”
His eyes moved around the emptied ballroom.
“Apparently yours cost $28,400.”
Victoria raised her chin.
“You will regret speaking to me like this.”
Alexander looked at her for a long time.
Then he picked up Sophia.
“No.”
He kissed his daughter’s hair.
“I regret believing you.”
They left through the front entrance.
No service corridor.
No attempt to avoid photographers.
Alexander carried Sophia past every camera waiting outside.
Halfway to the car, Helena called.
He answered.
“What?”
Her voice came fast.
“I found Malcolm.”
“Where?”
“He used his firm credentials to access the education reserve six minutes ago.”
Alexander stopped.
“For what?”
“He tried to close the account.”
Alexander looked back toward the hotel.
“What happened?”
“I froze it first.”
“Good.”
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The $180,000 is not the real problem.”
Alexander’s stomach tightened.
“How much?”
A pause.
“Potentially millions.”
Sophia shifted against his chest.
Alexander looked down at her.
Three years ago, his mother had shown him one fake letter and convinced him his family had abandoned him.
Tonight, one real letter had begun tearing apart everything he thought he knew.
“Preserve every record,” he said.
Then he got into the car.
May you like
“First I’m finding my wife.”
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