Chương 8 - Seven Percent
Seven percent sounded small.
Until Claire learned Whitmore Hospitality was worth approximately $62 million.
Her interest, depending on debt and valuation, could represent several million dollars.
More important than money:
Voting rights.
Walter had intentionally granted Claire an independent vote once she turned thirty.
Richard had folded those shares into a family trust he controlled.
“Why?” Claire asked.
They met with estate attorney Lydia Chen.
Richard had finally agreed to independent counsel.
Lydia reviewed the original amendments.
“The language appears to give Claire direct voting control at thirty.”
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“My lawyer said consolidation simplified governance.”
“Which lawyer?”
Richard hesitated.
“Thomas Vale.”
Marcus looked up sharply.
Claire noticed.
“You know him?”
“Gregory used him.”
Silence.
Richard stared.
“What?”
Marcus stood.
“Thomas Vale handled two shell companies tied to Gregory.”
Richard’s face drained.
“That was never proven.”
“It was in the internal report.”
“I never saw that section.”
Marcus laughed once.
“Of course you didn’t.”
Claire looked at both men.
“When did Dad restructure my shares?”
“Five years ago,” Lydia said.
One year after Gregory went to prison.
One year after Marcus disappeared from Claire’s life.
Thomas Vale had advised Richard that keeping voting shares centralized would reassure lenders after the scandal.
Richard followed the advice.
“Did I sign anything?” Claire asked.
Lydia found a consent document.
Claire’s signature appeared.
She stared.
“I didn’t sign this.”
Richard looked horrified.
“Claire.”
“I did not sign this.”
The signature resembled hers.
But the date mattered.
That day Claire had been in Barcelona.
She found passport records.
Photographs.
A hotel receipt.
She could prove she was outside the country.
Lydia remained careful.
“A signature can be obtained electronically while someone travels.”
“It wasn’t.”
Claire remembered no document.
Marcus asked:
“Who processed it?”
Lydia checked.
“Vale’s office.”
Richard sat down heavily.
For years he believed Gregory was the single corrupt branch of the family tree.
Now the lawyer who served both brothers might have continued manipulating documents afterward.
Claire asked:
“Where is Thomas Vale now?”
Richard answered.
“Retired.”
Marcus pulled out his phone.
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Vale Advisory Services. Arlington.”
He showed them.
Thomas Vale had left legal practice but now consulted on distressed business restructurings.
One of the firms listed in a public transaction announcement:
Carlisle Capital.
Evan.
Claire closed her eyes.
The network tightened.
Gregory.
Thomas Vale.
Evan’s firm.
Her father’s trust restructuring.
None of it proved Evan knew about a forged consent.
But he had been closer to the architecture of her family than he admitted.
Claire called him.
He answered immediately.
“Claire.”
“Do you know Thomas Vale?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He consults for us.”
“Did you know he represented my father?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know he represented Gregory?”
“I learned that later.”
“Did you know he moved my voting shares into Dad’s trust?”
Long pause.
“Claire, I think we should have this conversation with lawyers.”
Her heart sank.
“That means yes.”
“It means there are legal issues.”
“Were you dating me when you found out?”
“Yes.”
She ended the call.
Marcus watched her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t become the good man standing next to the bad man.”
His expression changed.
“I wasn’t.”
“You’re very calm when everyone else’s lies surface.”
Marcus absorbed that.
Fairly.
Claire continued:
“You kept secrets too.”
“Yes.”
“You agreed to disappear.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe things that weren’t true.”
“I was legally restricted.”
“You also chose silence beyond what the agreement required.”
Marcus looked away.
There.
She had finally reached him.
“Why?”
He answered after a long moment.
“Because I was angry.”
Claire stared.
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“What did I do?”
“You believed them immediately.”
Her eyes filled.
“You didn’t fight for me.”
“You didn’t give me anything to fight with.”
“I told you I didn’t betray your family.”
“You wouldn’t explain.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You could have told me the eight hundred dollars was for your mother.”
Marcus looked down.
“Yes.”
“You could have told me you loved me enough to wait.”
“Yes.”
“But you left.”
His voice became quiet.
“You said I embarrassed you.”
Claire remembered.
The last argument.
I’m tired of being embarrassed every time you need something.
She closed her eyes.
Marcus continued:
“I spent years ashamed of being poor. Hearing it from you made leaving easier.”
Claire nodded.
Painfully.
“Then we both failed.”
“Yes.”
No romantic forgiveness.
No easy reunion.
Just accuracy.
Lydia interrupted gently.
“We have a more immediate problem.”
She turned her laptop.
A filing had been made that morning.
Carlisle Capital had purchased a large block of Whitmore Hospitality debt from one of its lenders.
Evan’s firm was no longer merely investigating the family.
It was now one of its creditors.
And if Whitmore breached certain covenants, Carlisle could force a restructuring.
May you like
Claire’s seven-percent vote might determine who controlled the outcome.
Now everyone had a reason to fight over whether her signature had been forged.
