Chapter 4

Helena found me in the east corridor before I could reach the board secretary. She had changed nothing except her expression. In public she had been composed. In private, her pale eyes burned like ice under a blowtorch.

“Give me the trust certificate,” she said.

Two security guards stood behind her, both men who had worked at The Aerie for years. Neither would meet my eyes.

“No,” I said.

“You will be arrested before breakfast. Do you understand that? The complaint is filed. The bank account is in your name. The signature is on the guarantee. If you fight me, you will spend the next ten years in a state prison while I bury your father’s company.”

I held her gaze. “You sold Port Blakely for sixty-eight million. You forged my name. You stole from the company you claim to love.”

“I saved the company,” Helena snapped. “Marcus put thirty-four percent in a trust for an adopted girl who had no blood right to any of it. He made you believe you were special. You were never special. You were administrative support.”

The words hit exactly where she meant them to. I made myself breathe. “Then you won’t mind the board deciding.”

I called Lena Park, the board secretary, on speaker. She was still in the house, trying to calm the guests. I told her I had reason to believe a change-of-control event had occurred and that I was exercising rights under a Marcus Kestrel voting trust. I asked her to verify the certificate and schedule an emergency meeting under the company’s bylaws.

Lena’s voice shook. “Tamsin, the certificate would have to be authenticated. And Helena has already instructed me to prepare removal papers.”

“Authenticate it,” I said. “Please.”

Helena smiled then, a thin, terrible smile. She reached into her clutch and drew out a folded page. “I was going to save this for the meeting,” she said. “But since you’re so eager to play board games.”

She handed me the page. It was a resignation letter, dated three days earlier, purportedly signed by me, forfeiting all claims to any Kestrel trust, inheritance, or board seat. The signature was mine. Not my actual signature-an excellent forgery, smooth and confident, the way Helena’s hired experts always drew me.

“You will present that,” Helena said, “or I will present the criminal complaint and let the police take you out of this house in handcuffs.”

My stomach dropped, but I kept my hand steady on the paper. Another forgery. Another lie. Another object she believed could erase me.

“You’ve been planning this for years,” I said.

“I’ve been protecting my family for years.” Helena turned to the guards. “Escort her to the west parlor. She is not to leave until the board meeting.”

They moved toward me. I stepped back, the resignation letter still in my hand, and heard Silas Voss’s voice from the end of the hall.

“Touch her, and I’ll have each of you in a deposition by sunrise,” he said.

Helena’s smile faltered. For the first time, I saw fear beneath the diamond brooch.