Chapter 14 - Arthur Cole’s Missing Page
Samuel Greene arrived at the trust hearing carrying a black leather case.
Conrad Hale arrived with six attorneys.
Victoria sat behind them.
It was the first time Nathan had seen her in person since the penthouse attack.
She looked smaller.
That surprised him.
Not weaker.
Just human.
For years Nathan had treated Victoria’s confidence as evidence of strength.
Now he recognized it as armor.
Their eyes met.
She looked away first.
The hearing focused on Arthur’s mental capacity.
Conrad’s attorney produced medical records documenting confusion after Arthur’s first stroke.
Samuel countered with emails Arthur dictated the morning he signed Article Seven.
Detailed.
Coherent.
Angry.
Then Evelyn testified.
Nathan watched from the gallery.
“Was your husband always lucid during that period?”
“No.”
“Did he experience memory problems?”
“Yes.”
“Did he occasionally fail to recognize people?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Yes.”
Nathan felt the case slipping.
Maya leaned toward Grace.
“This is bad.”
Conrad’s attorney smiled.
“So you cannot state with certainty that Arthur understood the legal consequences of Article Seven.”
Evelyn looked at Nathan.
Then Lily, who was not in the courtroom but seemed to exist in the space between every question.
“No,” Evelyn said.
Nathan closed his eyes.
The judge ordered further briefing and temporarily froze the disputed voting shares.
Conrad had not won.
Nathan had not won either.
Outside, Victoria approached Grace.
Maya stepped between them.
Victoria stopped.
“You look tired.”
Grace stared at her.
“You look free for someone who beat a child.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened.
“My criminal case is pending.”
“Good.”
Victoria looked at Nathan.
“You see what she’s doing?”
Nathan said nothing.
“What?”
“She wants you to hate everyone who existed before her.”
Grace laughed.
“I don’t need help making him hate you.”
Victoria’s eyes flashed.
Then she left.
Samuel caught Nathan near the elevators.
“There’s a problem with my file.”
Nathan turned.
“What?”
Samuel opened the black case.
“The executed Article Seven amendment was six pages.”
Jordan nodded.
“The archive copy is missing.”
“My retained copy should still be six.”
Samuel counted.
Five.
Nathan stared.
“One page is gone?”
“The signature page.”
Grace’s face changed.
“When did you last see it?”
“Years ago.”
Nathan thought of Victoria and Elliott carrying the gray archive box.
“Could someone have accessed your office?”
Samuel frowned.
“Not easily.”
Grace said, “What about your storage?”
Samuel looked at her.
“My old files were moved when I retired.”
“Who arranged the transfer?”
He hesitated.
“Cole Meridian.”
Nathan already knew.
“Elliott.”
Samuel nodded.
The missing page threatened everything.
Without the original signature page, Conrad could argue the amendment had never been properly executed.
Jordan swore under his breath.
Grace opened Arthur’s old envelope again.
Inside were the letter, receipt, and handwritten note.
She shook it gently.
Something seemed thick beneath the lining.
“Wait.”
She tore the already-damaged inner seam.
A folded photocopy slid out.
Not the signature page.
A routing slip.
Arthur had instructed Samuel’s office to send a certified copy of the completed amendment to an outside accountant.
Jordan read the name.
“Daniel Kessler.”
Samuel stared.
“He was Arthur’s personal accountant.”
“Alive?” Nathan asked.
Samuel nodded.
“Florida, I think.”
Jordan was already dialing.
Daniel Kessler answered after three calls.
He remembered Arthur.
He remembered Article Seven.
And he remembered receiving a certified copy.
“Do you still have it?” Nathan asked over speakerphone.
A long silence.
“I might.”
Nathan’s heart pounded.
Daniel continued.
“But Mr. Cole, someone contacted me about that file last month.”
“Who?”
“A woman from your company.”
Nathan glanced at Grace.
“Name?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Claire Baines.”
Grace whispered, “Victoria’s assistant.”
Nathan gripped the phone.
“What did she want?”
“She offered to buy the file.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Nathan felt his blood go cold.
“Did you sell it?”
May you like
Daniel did not answer immediately.
Then he said, “You should come to Florida.”
