Chapter 7 - The Eve of the Wedding
On Friday evening, twenty-four hours before the ceremony, the rainfall over the city was heavy, washing against the high glass windows of the penthouse.
Inside, the atmosphere was quiet, warm, and focused.
Nathan sat at the dining table with a team of three forensic accountants, reviewing twenty years of corporate financial records from Mercer Logistics that we had subpoenaed following Harold’s arrest.
"Evelyn, you need to see this," Nathan called out, waving me over.
I walked over to the table, holding a cup of herbal tea. "What did you find?"
"It’s worse than we thought," Nathan said, turning a ledger toward me. "Your father didn't just try to bypass your grandmother's codicil. For the last five years, he and your mother have been illegally siphoning money directly out of your grandmother's educational trust—money that was meant for public university scholarships—to pay off Chloe’s personal credit card debts and cover the operating losses of his shipping firm."
"How much?" Adrian asked, stepping into the dining room.
"Nearly 2.2 million dollars," Nathan replied grimly. "It’s outright embezzlement. If the state attorney sees these ledgers, Eleanor won't just be facing civil suits—she'll be joining Harold in a federal prison."
I looked at the numbers on the screen. For years, my mother had preached to me about responsibility, duty, and keeping up family appearances. She had treated me like an ungrateful child whenever I questioned her spending habits, all while quietly robbing a charitable fund meant for underprivileged students.
"Keep these records secure," I told Nathan. "We present them to the probate judge on Monday morning."
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Adrian asked, placing a gentle hand on the back of my waist.
I turned to look at him. "I've never been more ready in my life."
"The media is going to be everywhere outside the cathedral, Evelyn," Adrian reminded me softly, his eyes filled with concern. "There will be hundreds of cameras. Everyone will be looking at your face."
May you like
I reached up, touching the edge of the small white bandage that still rested against my cheekbone.
"Let them look," I said, a clear, beautiful sense of peace settling into my chest. "Let them see what my family tried to do to me, and let them see that I am still standing."
