Chapter 13 - The Loan
The private loan led to a Beverly Hills investment office and three shell companies.
Leah Brenner was not surprised.
“People rarely commit one financial deception at a time.”
The $6.2 million loan had funded Evelyn’s personal purchase of shares during a family ownership restructuring.
In practical terms, she had borrowed money to maintain voting control of the studio.
When the loan came due, she needed either cash or acceptable collateral.
The Starlight Orchid was worth enough to negotiate an extension.
“She was going to sell it twice,” Mara said.
Leah glanced at her.
“In a sense.”
“Once through insurance fraud. Again now.”
“Yes.”
“And she planted it on Ivy because Ivy saw her remove it.”
“That appears to be the sequence.”
Julian sat across from them.
“Why not just say Ivy wandered into the vault?”
“Because the brooch itself was proof of the old fraud,” Mara said.
“If Ivy told people Evelyn removed it from a hidden compartment, someone might ask why an artifact destroyed in 2018 was still there.”
Leah nodded.
“Framing Ivy changed the narrative. The child becomes the thief. Evelyn becomes the victim who recovered her property.”
Julian looked ill.
“And because I would back her.”
Mara did not soften it.
“Yes.”
The old credential under Mara’s name had been reactivated through an administrator account linked to Evelyn’s executive office.
That created a second layer.
If the vault access became part of an investigation, records would point toward Mara.
“She was framing both of us,” Mara said.
Leah corrected her.
“She was creating alternatives.”
Mara frowned.
“If people believed Ivy, she could point to your credential.”
“And say I coached her?”
“Possibly.”
Julian whispered, “Jesus.”
By afternoon, Daniel received notice that Evelyn had attempted to authorize a transfer from a foundation reserve account toward the private loan.
Her access had already been frozen.
The transaction failed.
Conrad Pike resigned as her personal counsel that same evening.
The forged affidavit had become too dangerous.
Evelyn hired a criminal-defense attorney.
That change frightened Julian.
His mother had finally realized this was no longer a public-relations problem.
At six, Mara picked up Ivy from Nora’s house.
Ivy was sitting at Nora’s workbench polishing a fake gold crown from an old fantasy film.
“Careful,” Nora said. “That crown has survived three kings and two television reboots.”
Ivy grinned.
It was the first unguarded smile Mara had seen all week.
On the drive home, Ivy asked, “Is Grandma still rich?”
Mara laughed despite herself.
“Probably.”
“Then why did she steal stuff?”
“That is a very good question.”
“Ms. Patel says people don’t always do bad things because they need something.”
“Ms. Patel is right.”
“Sometimes they want to keep something.”
Mara looked at her through the mirror.
“What do you think Grandma wanted to keep?”
Ivy thought.
“Being the boss.”
The child had understood in one sentence what accountants needed three shell companies to explain.
That night, Julian called Ivy directly.
Mara stayed nearby but did not listen to every word.
He asked about school.
She told him a boy named Theo cheated at kickball.
Then she asked, “Are you still the boss of the studio?”
“No.”
“Did Grandma fire you?”
“No. I stepped away for a while.”
“Why?”
“Because I signed things I should have checked.”
Ivy glanced at Mara.
“Mom says signatures matter.”
“They do.”
“Are you going to jail?”
Julian choked slightly.
“I don’t know.”
Mara almost intervened, but he continued.
“I don’t think so. But if people decide I broke rules, I have to answer honestly.”
Ivy nodded as if he could see her.
“Okay.”
After the call, she handed the phone back.
“He sounds sad.”
“He is.”
“Do you still love him?”
The directness hurt.
“Yes.”
“Then why isn’t he here?”
“Love and trust are different things.”
Ivy considered that.
“Can trust grow back?”
“Sometimes.”
“How?”
Mara looked at the black velvet backpack sitting on a chair across the room.
She had finally given it back.
Ivy had not used it.
“One true thing at a time.”
The next morning, Tessa called.
A second audio track had been recovered from rehearsal.
The words were faint, recorded moments before Evelyn approached Ivy.
Evelyn was on the phone.
Martin Estes’ voice could not be heard, but Evelyn’s side of the conversation was clear.
“Tonight. No delay.”
Pause.
“No, Julian knows nothing.”
Another pause.
Then:
“If the Ellison records surface, we use the affidavit.”
Mara gripped the edge of her desk.
The forged confession had not been invented after Camera Four.
Evelyn had planned that too.
Before the brooch.
Before Ivy.
Before the accusation.
May you like
The trap was larger than anyone had realized.
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