PART 2: Dominic barked a laugh. “Your grandfather? The dead one?”
PART 2: Dominic barked a laugh. “Your grandfather? The dead one?”
Natalie covered her mouth, delighted. “Maybe the medication is making her confused.”
I said nothing. Grandfather had erased himself from society after my parents died in a plane crash when I was twelve. Reporters knew billionaire Arthur Crestwood had one surviving heir, but no photograph of me had appeared since childhood. I attended ordinary schools under my mother’s surname, worked as an accountant, and rejected the bodyguards and penthouses he offered.
Dominic had married Audrey Brooks, the supposedly orphaned bookkeeper. He had no idea Audrey Brooks controlled the Crestwood family trust.
The elevator doors opened eight minutes later.
First came two hospital security officers. Then the chief medical officer, the network’s general counsel, and Sophia Sterling, my grandfather’s private attorney. Arthur Crestwood followed with a silver cane striking the floor like a judge’s gavel.
Every nurse in the unit went silent.
Dominic’s face entirely emptied of color.
Natalie whispered, “That’s Arthur Crestwood.”
Grandfather passed them without acknowledgment and knelt beside my chair. His ruthless expression broke when he saw the incubators.
“Which is Liam?”
I pointed. His hand trembled against the glass.
Dominic recovered enough to step forward. “Mr. Crestwood, I can explain why I’m here.”
Grandfather slowly stood. “You are here because my granddaughter nearly died delivering my great-grandchildren.”
Natalie’s fingers slipped from Dominic’s arm.
“Granddaughter?” he croaked.
Sophia took the divorce folder from him. She scanned three pages, then smiled without a shred of warmth.
“You emptied marital accounts while your wife was sedated, concealed assets, and demanded her signature forty-eight hours after major surgery without counsel present,” she said. “A signature is not a divorce decree, Mr. Vance. It is evidence.”
Dominic glanced frantically toward the exits.
The general counsel opened another file. “Vance Medical Supply has contracts with eleven Crestwood hospitals. Our preliminary audit found duplicate invoices, falsified delivery records, and payments routed to a consulting company owned by Ms. Natalie Cross.”
Natalie stepped backward. “I don’t own any company.”
Sophia displayed a registration document. “Then someone forged your signature remarkably well.”
Dominic’s arrogance cracked, but not completely. “This is intimidation. You can’t destroy my business because she called her rich grandfather.”
“No,” I said, finally turning toward him. “But your fraud can.”
Dominic stared at me then, understanding that the powerless wife he discarded had been watching everything.
For six months, I had noticed discrepancies between Dominic’s lifestyle and his company’s declared income. I copied statements, preserved emails, and sent them to Sophia before my emergency admission. I had hoped I was wrong. The night I went into labor, Dominic transferred every dollar from our accounts into Natalie’s company, proving I was not.
He lunged for my phone.
Security seized him before he ever reached me.
Natalie screamed as another officer blocked her path.
I pointed at my coat. “That belongs to me.”
May you like
She ripped it off and threw it down.
Grandfather picked it up carefully, folded it over his arm, and addressed security. “Remove them. Preserve every camera recording. Police are already coming.”
