Chapter 2 - Twenty-Two Percent
Sophie thought she had misheard him.
“What?”
Ethan read the sentence again.
“Part of Bellamy Ridge already belongs to her.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“Richard was sick when he wrote that.”
Ethan’s eyes hardened.
“Dad wrote this five years before he died.”
“He was sentimental.”
“About twenty-two percent of a company?”
Sophie stared.
Ethan looked back at the page.
The letter named the Carter Heritage Trust.
Twenty-two percent of Bellamy Ridge Holdings.
Economic and voting rights.
Beneficiary: Sophie Evelyn Carter.
Now Sophie Bellamy.
Her knees weakened.
“I don’t have a trust.”
“Yes, you do,” Margaret said.
Everyone turned.
Margaret realized too late that she had admitted knowledge.
Sophie whispered, “You knew.”
Margaret lifted her chin.
“I knew Richard believed an old settlement remained enforceable.”
“Believed?”
Ethan flipped through the file.
A settlement agreement appeared beneath the letter.
Richard Bellamy.
Evelyn Carter.
Two law firms.
An escrow company.
The document dated back twenty-four years.
Sophie would have been five.
Ethan looked at Margaret.
“Mom.”
“You have no idea what happened.”
“Then explain it.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“Your father started Bellamy Ridge with family land and Bellamy money.”
Maria spoke quietly.
“No, ma’am.”
Margaret turned.
Maria’s voice steadied.
“Mrs. Evelyn brought the Carter parcel.”
Sophie stared at her.
“You knew my mother too?”
Maria nodded.
“She designed half the original tasting program. She chose the blocks for the first reserve cabernet.”
Sophie had grown up believing her mother worked as a food writer before opening a small event-design business.
Never once had Evelyn said she helped build a vineyard.
Margaret pointed at Maria.
“You were household staff.”
“I worked harvest before I worked in the house.”
Ethan kept reading.
According to the old settlement, Evelyn Carter had contributed forty-one acres inherited from her father and had received a thirty-percent interest in the vineyard partnership.
Years later, after a financing crisis, she agreed to restructure her ownership.
Eight percent was bought out.
Twenty-two percent was placed in a trust for Sophie.
The shares would remain nonpublic while Sophie was a minor but were supposed to transfer full voting rights to her at age thirty.
Sophie was thirty-one.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
No one answered.
She turned toward Margaret.
“Why?”
Margaret’s voice cooled.
“Because the document was never properly completed.”
Ethan pointed at signatures.
“It was signed.”
“The shares were never entered into the company ledger.”
“That sounds like a company failure, not Sophie’s.”
Margaret’s eyes flashed.
“You think this is simple because you found old paper in a drawer?”
Ethan held up the private-investigator invoices.
“You also paid someone to follow my pregnant wife.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this.”
Sophie picked up one surveillance photograph.
She was sitting at a café with Oliver Grant, an estate attorney who had handled her mother’s small probate.
The photograph was taken three weeks earlier.
Margaret tapped it.
“There. Your wife secretly meets lawyers while pregnant with your child.”
Sophie stared.
“Oliver contacted me because my mother’s storage company found unopened files.”
“You never told Ethan.”
“Because I thought it was about Mom’s old tax records.”
Margaret smiled without warmth.
“Convenient.”
Ethan looked at Sophie.
For half a second, doubt appeared.
It hurt more than the slap.
“You think I knew?”
“No.”
“But you hesitated.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“So am I.”
Sophie looked at the ultrasound frame on the floor.
Its glass had cracked.
She bent to pick it up.
Ethan immediately helped her.
Margaret watched.
“This is exactly what Richard wanted.”
Ethan stood.
“What?”
“To put Sophie between us.”
Sophie laughed in disbelief.
“Your husband has been dead three years and you’re still blaming him for things you do.”
Margaret’s expression darkened.
“Do not speak about my marriage.”
“You spoke about mine.”
That silenced the room.
Ethan folded the letter.
“I’m calling counsel.”
Margaret moved toward him.
“You will not take company files out of this archive.”
“I’m CEO.”
“I’m board chair.”
“And these involve my wife’s property.”
“Alleged property.”
Sophie picked up the investigator report.
“And this involves me.”
She took it.
Margaret grabbed her wrist.
Ethan immediately pulled his mother’s hand away.
“Do not touch her again.”
The words were quiet.
Final.
Margaret stared at her son.
Something in her face broke.
Not grief.
Calculation.
“Fine.”
She stepped back.
“Call your lawyers.”
Ethan narrowed his eyes.
“You sound very confident.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
Margaret looked at Sophie.
“Because Richard left out one important detail.”
Sophie felt cold.
“What?”
May you like
Margaret smiled.
“Your mother signed her rights away two weeks before she died.”
