Chapter 9 - Under Oath
Julian read his mother’s declaration in Maya’s office.
His face became still.
“She knows that isn’t true.”
Maya watched him.
“Then your position should be simple.”
Julian looked at Isabel.
“I’ll file a declaration.”
Isabel said nothing.
He continued.
“I’ll state that you never agreed to the north parcel transfer in my presence.”
Maya asked, “Will you also state what you did participate in?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it harms you?”
“Yes.”
Maya nodded.
“Good. Because a selective declaration will be easy to destroy.”
Julian looked at Isabel again.
She still gave him nothing.
Two days later, his declaration was filed.
He admitted discussing a proposed consolidation.
Admitted he believed Isabel could be persuaded.
Admitted authorizing the well inspection.
Admitted sending signature samples to Voss.
Denied witnessing a deed.
Denied knowing the north parcel had already been transferred.
Denied signing the notarial witness acknowledgment.
Then he stated something Isabel had not expected.
I allowed my desire to protect Laurent Cellars and please my mother to override my duty of honesty to my wife. I participated in conduct designed to influence her decision before she had been given full information.
It was not legal poetry.
It was worse.
It was true.
Helena called him within an hour.
Isabel knew because Julian later gave Maya the voicemail.
“You ungrateful coward,” Helena said. “Your father would be ashamed of you.”
Julian did not respond.
At the temporary-order hearing, Helena appeared with two attorneys.
Isabel sat beside Maya.
The courtroom was smaller than she had imagined.
No dramatic jury.
No shouting.
Mostly paper.
The lender’s attorney argued that the bank had relied on a recorded deed and required clarity.
Helena’s attorney claimed the ownership dispute involved “a regrettable marital disagreement.”
Maya stood.
“My client was demonstrably in another state when the deed was supposedly acknowledged in person.”
She presented the conference records.
Video.
Travel receipts.
Hotel key records.
The judge reviewed them.
Then Maya presented Evan Pike’s preliminary statement acknowledging Helena had been present at the notarization.
Helena’s lawyer attacked Pike’s credibility.
Maya agreed his credibility was an issue.
“That is precisely why further transfers should be prevented until the facts are tested.”
The judge did not decide who owned the parcel that day.
Instead, she issued a temporary order preventing sale, additional liens, alteration of water infrastructure, or transfer of the disputed north parcel while the case proceeded.
It was limited.
But it stopped Helena’s clock.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
Only two.
Still, Helena used them.
“This lawsuit is tearing apart two historic family vineyards,” she said.
Isabel walked past without speaking.
One reporter called after her.
“Mrs. Laurent, do you believe your mother-in-law forged your signature?”
Maya touched Isabel’s elbow.
Keep moving.
Isabel did.
That restraint cost her more than shouting would have.
Back at Reyes Vineyard, the first major red-wine harvest began.
Ortega Distribution restored its order after Isabel provided financial assurances.
One crisis eased.
Another emerged.
A refrigeration unit failed.
The replacement part would take two days.
Luis found a rental.
It cost too much.
Isabel approved it anyway.
Life refused to become narratively convenient just because she was in a legal war.
At midnight, she was still at the winery when Camila arrived.
“I brought food.”
Isabel looked at the takeout containers.
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Yes.”
They ate noodles beside a stainless-steel tank.
Camila looked tired.
“Mom won’t speak to me.”
“Because of the waiver document?”
“Because I told her Sofia won’t visit until she stops pressuring her.”
Isabel put down her fork.
“What pressure?”
“She keeps asking what Sofia remembers.”
Anger flashed through Isabel.
“She’s nine.”
“I know.”
“Does Sofia still have the tablet?”
“It’s with my lawyer now.”
“Good.”
Camila leaned against the table.
“She asked me if families stop being families when adults lie.”
Isabel’s throat tightened.
“What did you tell her?”
“That families change when adults make bad choices. But children don’t have to fix them.”
Isabel nodded.
“That’s good.”
Camila watched her.
“Do you hate Julian?”
Isabel stared at the noodles.
“Some hours.”
“And the other hours?”
“That’s worse.”
Camila understood.
They sat quietly.
Then Camila said, “I found something in Dad’s old storage.”
Isabel looked up.
“A box of business files Mom never threw away.”
“What kind?”
“Bank correspondence.”
Isabel straightened.
“From when?”
“Six years ago.”
The year André died.
Camila opened her phone.
“I photographed one letter.”
It was from a bank to André Laurent.
A financing proposal involving both Laurent Cellars and a potential acquisition option on part of Reyes Vineyard.
The proposal was unsigned.
But a handwritten note appeared in the margin.
Helena believes Julian marriage may solve access problem. Discuss later.
The handwriting belonged to André.
Isabel felt the room tilt.
“Your father knew?”
“Apparently.”
“Did Julian?”
“I don’t know.”
Camila zoomed in.
A second note appeared below the first.
Do not involve children in property arrangement. Julian relationship must remain separate.
Isabel stared.
André had rejected the idea.
Not because it was financially foolish.
Because he understood what it would do to them.
Camila scrolled to another page.
A year later, shortly before André’s death, he had written:
H told Voss to revisit northern well after M. Reyes refuses. Told her no.
H.
Helena.
Voss.
North well.
This had begun years earlier.
But then Isabel noticed something clipped behind the letter.
A payment receipt.
Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Paid by André Laurent’s estate six years ago.
To Peter Voss.
The exact amount that had moved into Voss’s trust account from the recent loan.
Isabel looked at Camila.
“What was this payment for?”
Camila shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
But someone did.
May you like
And Peter Voss had just become much more important than the lawyer who formed an LLC.
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