Chapter 8: My Grandmother's Last Warning
“Don't you dare use my grandmother to excuse what you've done.””
My voice rang across the ballroom.
Sebastian stopped speaking.
For the first time, I wasn't looking at him as the man I'd planned to marry. I was looking at him as someone who might have been given pieces of my family's history and decided to use them against me.
He raised both hands.
“I'm not excusing anything.””
“Then tell us what agreement you're talking about.””
He glanced at Philippa.
She shook her head once.
It was a small movement, almost invisible.
But I saw it.
So did my father.
“Sebastian,” Dad said, “you will explain exactly what you know. If you have documents, we will preserve them and let the attorneys determine their significance.””
Sebastian rubbed a hand over his face.
“My father told me that your grandmother and mine had been business partners decades ago. They invested in a property development company together.””
My father frowned.
“Your grandmother was a schoolteacher.””
“Before that,” Sebastian replied, “she inherited an interest in a commercial property partnership. My father said the investment was sold, but one of the agreements was never formally closed.””
Evelyn opened her notebook.
“Do you know the name of the partnership?””
“Winslow-Ashworth Properties.””
My father went still.
I looked at him.
“Dad?””
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he pulled out his phone and searched through a folder of photographs.
“I remember the name,” he said.
“Your grandmother mentioned it once, years ago. She told me there had been a dispute over a warehouse property, but she said the matter was settled.””
“Was it?””
“I thought so.””
Sebastian stepped closer.
“My father believed the original agreement gave the Ashworth family an option to purchase the remaining interest if certain conditions were met.””
“What conditions?”” Evelyn asked.
“I don't know. He kept the original documents in his study.””
Philippa cut in.
“Those documents are irrelevant. The property was sold years ago.””
Dad looked at her.
“Then you won't object to a review of the records.””
“Of course I object. You have no right to rummage through our private affairs.””
“No one is asking to rummage through anything. If the agreement exists, our attorneys can determine whether it has any legal effect.””
Philippa turned toward the remaining guests.
“Can you believe this? A family tragedy has become a public interrogation.””
A man near the entrance picked up his coat.
“Then perhaps we should all leave.””
Another guest nodded.
“I think that's best.””
Within minutes, the remaining audience began filing out of the ballroom. Some offered me quiet expressions of sympathy. Others avoided looking at Sebastian altogether.
The photographer left his equipment with the hotel staff and departed without taking another picture.
Soon, only our small group remained beneath the floral arch.
Philippa watched the room empty.
Then she turned on Sebastian.
“You've destroyed everything.””
He laughed bitterly.
“No, Mother. I repeated what Father told me.””
“You should have kept your mouth shut.””
“Like you kept Evelyn quiet?””
Evelyn's expression didn't change, but her fingers tightened around her folder.
Philippa stepped toward her.
“You have no idea what happened six years ago.””
“I remember every word you said to me,” Evelyn replied.
“You told me that no one would believe a woman who accused the Ashworth family of financial misconduct. You said my father's business would collapse before anyone bothered to investigate.””
“And did it not?””
Evelyn's eyes hardened.
“Yes. It did. But you didn't get everything you wanted.””
She lifted the folder.
“I kept the evidence.””
Philippa's composure finally cracked.
“You think papers can save you?””
“No,” Evelyn said.
“I think the truth can survive long enough for someone to read it.””
My father stepped between them.
“This conversation is over. Mrs. Ashworth, do not contact my daughter or attempt to interfere with the investigation. Any further communication should go through the attorneys.””
Philippa stared at him.
“You're threatening me?””
“I'm setting a boundary.””
Dad turned toward me.
“Let's go.””
But before we reached the exit, Sebastian called after us.
“Genevieve, wait.””
I stopped, though I didn't turn around.
“I need to tell you something about your grandmother.””
My father moved beside me.
“Make it quick.””
Sebastian swallowed.
“My father kept a letter she sent him shortly before she died. He said it explained why the original agreement was never completed.””
“Where is the letter?”” I asked.
“In his study. Or it was the last time I saw it.””
“Why didn't you mention this earlier?””
“Because I didn't know how important it was.””
I turned to face him.
“You've known about the agreement for years.””
“I knew it existed. I didn't know what it meant.””
“And you expected me to believe that?””
“No.”” His voice faltered.
“I don't expect you to believe anything I say.””
For once, it sounded honest.
He looked at the bracelet on my wrist.
“My father told me that your grandmother refused to sign a final transfer. He said she believed the Ashworth family had changed the terms after the original investment.””
Dad's expression sharpened.
“What terms?””
“I don't know. But he said she left instructions that the agreement should only be reopened if someone from the Winslow family asked for the original records.””
I frowned.
“Why would I ask for them?””
Sebastian shook his head.
“I don't know.””
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“Perhaps she knew someone would eventually try to use the agreement again.””
Dad considered that.
“Or perhaps the document has no legal significance and your father was using the story to frighten you.””
Sebastian looked down.
“That's possible.””
His willingness to admit uncertainty surprised me more than any dramatic confession could have.
For a moment, I wondered whether there was a decent man buried somewhere beneath the lies.
Then I remembered him guiding Lavinia into my chair.
I remembered his hand around my arm.
I remembered the cold marble against my palm while he walked away.
Whatever good might once have existed between us, it did not erase those choices.
“Where is your father now?”” I asked.
“His house. He's been ill for months.””
“Can he speak to us?””
“I don't know.””
“Then we'll contact him through our attorneys.””
Sebastian nodded.
I turned away.
At the hotel entrance, Mr. Osgood had arranged a private car for us. He opened the door while my father helped me gather my gown.
Before I stepped inside, Evelyn touched my shoulder.
“Genevieve, there's something I haven't told you.””
I looked at her.
“When I received the message about your wedding, I was told that the Ashworths had already approached someone connected to your family trust.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who?””
“I don't know. The message came from Charles Whitmore, the former accountant. He said someone had requested a copy of the original trust schedule.””
Dad turned sharply.
“When?””
“Last week.””
“Did he identify the person?””
Evelyn nodded.
“He said the request came from a law firm representing a beneficiary.””
I looked at my father.
“Who could request information about my trust?””
“That depends on the original terms,” he said.
“We'll have to check with our attorney.””
I climbed into the car.
Dad followed, and Osgood settled into the front passenger seat.
As we pulled away from the hotel, I watched the ballroom disappear behind the tinted glass.
The wedding flowers had been chosen to symbolize new beginnings.
Instead, they had framed the moment my old life ended.
My phone vibrated.
This time, the message came from a number I recognized.
My cousin Marcus.
*Genevieve, call me immediately. Someone just came to the house asking about Aunt Eleanor's estate. They had a copy of your trust paperwork.*
A second message arrived before I could respond.
*Dad doesn't know yet, but I think they took something from Grandma's study.*
I looked at my father.
He had already noticed my expression.
“What happened?””
I showed him the screen.
His face hardened.
“Osgood, tell the driver to take us home. And call our attorney again.””
I stared out the window as the city blurred past.
The Ashworths had tried to secure my father's company through a marriage.
They had hidden financial records, frightened a former fiancée into silence, and pushed me toward a wedding that was never simply about love.
But now someone had entered my family's home.
Someone who knew about my grandmother's estate.
Someone who had apparently decided that a blank signature page was not the end of the plan.
I touched the bracelet.
For the first time that day, I wondered whether my grandmother had left me more than an heirloom.
May you like
Perhaps she had left me a warning.
And perhaps the people who wanted it had just made their biggest mistake.
