Chapter 9 - The Price of Being Chosen
Corinne had met Graham Vale in a hotel lobby sixteen months before her wedding.
She'd been twenty-five, broke, and furious at the world.
Nathan had brought her there.
“He just wants to talk,” her brother had said.
“About what?”
“A job.”
“Then why are we meeting in a hotel bar?”
“Because that's where businessmen have meetings.”
Corinne had rolled her eyes.
“I'm not twelve, Nate.”
But she'd gone.
Graham had offered to pay for a position with a charity organization, provide professional introductions, and clear twenty-eight thousand dollars of Nathan's outstanding debt.
In return, Corinne would become acquainted with Adrian Whitmore.
She remembered staring at Graham across the table.
“You want me to date him?”
“I want you to meet him.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“Exactly.”
“And if I don't like him?”
“Then you walk away.”
She hadn't believed that last part.
But she'd needed money.
Their mother had died four years earlier, leaving medical bills and a small house with a mortgage Nathan had repeatedly refinanced.
Corinne had spent years trying to keep both her brother and the property afloat.
She was tired.
Tired of working two jobs.
Tired of being told she was beautiful enough to marry rich.
Tired of watching Nathan make promises nobody believed.
So she'd said yes.
And then she'd met Adrian.
He had been awkward.
That surprised her.
Rich men were supposed to be arrogant, at least according to Nathan.
Adrian had apologized three times after she spilled champagne near his shoes.
He'd asked what she wanted to do with her life.
When she told him she loved restoring old furniture, he'd listened.
Actually listened.
On their fourth date, he'd brought her to a tiny family-owned antique shop and spent two hours asking questions about cabinet joints.
She'd started liking him.
That was the problem.
She hadn't planned on liking him.
And she definitely hadn't planned on Junie.
At first, Junie had adored her.
The little girl drew pictures of them together and asked whether Corinne could braid her hair.
Corinne tried.
She really did.
But every conversation eventually came back to Elise.
“My mommy used to sing that.”
“My mommy liked that color.”
“My mommy says the moon follows us home.”
Corinne knew it was grief.
She knew the child wasn't trying to hurt her.
Still, every reminder of Elise made her feel like a guest in someone else's home.
Then Graham's requests became more specific.
Ask Adrian about his schedule.
Find out where he kept the older company records.
Encourage him to approve restructuring documents.
She'd resisted at first.
Graham reminded her about Nathan's debts.
Then he showed her the agreement she'd signed.
It described consulting services and compensation linked to a transaction involving Whitmore family assets.
Her signature was at the bottom.
She'd been reckless enough to sign it.
Now, standing in Nathan's condominium after Adrian left, Corinne faced her brother across the dining table.
“You told him.”
Nathan wouldn't meet her eyes.
“He already knew most of it.”
“Not about Graham paying for the wedding.”
“He asked me.”
“And you just answered?”
Nathan slammed his glass down.
“What did you want me to do? Keep lying while his kid's in the hospital?”
Corinne flinched.
“She wasn't seriously injured.”
Nathan stared.
“Listen to yourself.”
“I know what happened.”
“Do you?”
She turned away.
Nathan's voice softened.
“Rin.”
“Don't call me that.”
“Do you remember when Mom fell in the kitchen and you sat outside her hospital room all night?”
Corinne closed her eyes.
“You wouldn't leave until somebody promised she was okay.”
“Stop.”
“That used to be you.”
“I said stop.”
Nathan looked at her for a long time.
Then he asked the question nobody had asked her directly.
“Why did you push that little girl?”
Corinne covered her face.
Her answer came through her fingers.
“Because for one second, I wanted her gone.”
Nathan looked away.
“And afterward?”
She began crying.
“Afterward I wanted to take it back.”
Her brother stood.
“Then tell Adrian.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
She lowered her hands.
“Because Graham has something worse.”
Nathan's expression changed.
“What?”
Corinne opened her phone and showed him a photograph of an agreement bearing her signature.
It wasn't their original consulting contract.
It was a separate document.
A proposed transfer of twenty-four percent of the voting interests in Whitmore Marine Holdings to a Harborstone-controlled investment vehicle.
Nathan leaned closer.
“That's Adrian's signature.”
Corinne shook her head.
“No.”
Nathan stared at her.
She whispered, “It's mine.”
He looked back at the page.
Below Adrian's typed name was a signature made to look like his.
Corinne's hands shook.
“Graham made me practice it.”
Nathan sank into a chair.
Outside, a gull cried over the marina.
For the first time, Nathan understood that his sister wasn't merely trapped in Graham's scheme.
May you like
She had helped build it.
And if Adrian discovered the document, the yacht might be only the beginning of what Corinne had to answer for.
