Chapter 2 - THE BLACK FOLDER
Donald Harrington looked at the black folder as if it contained a loaded weapon.
“What federal contracting office?”
Dominic smiled without warmth.
“The one that tends to become interested when a construction company bills the government for materials it never purchased.”
Zachary laughed.
Too quickly.
“This is ridiculous.”
Jonathan looked at him.
Then at the riding crop still hanging from his hand.
“Put that down.”
Zachary’s fingers tightened.
For half a second, I thought his pride might actually make him refuse.
Then Xavier lifted his phone.
“I’ve already requested police and medical assistance for my sister.”
The crop hit the marble floor.
No one clapped.
No one moved.
Jonathan turned toward the guests.
“If anyone wishes to leave, leave. No one here is being detained.”
That mattered.
My brothers did not need to become criminals to prove Zachary was one.
Several guests immediately headed toward the front doors.
Others stayed.
Curiosity had always been stronger than dignity in rooms like this.
The young catering employee who had cut me loose approached Xavier.
His name tag read CALEB.
“Sir?”
Xavier turned.
Caleb’s hands were shaking again.
“I recorded some of it.”
The ballroom changed.
Zachary’s face did too.
“What?”
Caleb swallowed.
“After the fifth time he hit her.”
Bianca whispered, “Oh my God.”
Zachary lunged one step toward him.
Gabriel moved between them.
Not threatening.
Simply present.
Zachary stopped.
Caleb handed Xavier his phone.
“I thought somebody should have proof.”
I looked at him.
“Thank you.”
His eyes filled.
“I should’ve moved sooner.”
“So should everyone.”
Beatrice stiffened.
I met her gaze.
She looked away first.
Dominic opened the black folder.
“Three weeks ago Genevieve sent me a photograph of a transfer involving Harrington Construction.”
Donald’s face hardened.
“My daughter-in-law had no authority to inspect corporate accounts.”
“I didn’t inspect them.”
I spoke before Dominic could.
“The transfer was on the laptop Zachary left open in our apartment.”
Zachary stared at me.
“You went through my computer?”
“I looked at a screen you left beside my breakfast.”
“You had no right—”
Jonathan’s expression changed.
I raised one hand.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
“I’m answering him.”
Then I turned back to Zachary.
“You cheated on me for eight months. You moved company money through accounts connected to your mistress. You forged documents carrying my name.”
His anger cracked.
Just slightly.
“What documents?”
Interesting.
He knew about some.
Not all.
Dominic pulled out the first sheet.
“Harrington Construction billed a federal redevelopment project fourteen point eight million dollars for structural steel, fasteners, and specialty concrete reinforcement.”
Donald said, “Correct.”
“Except the supplier listed on the invoice has three employees, no warehouse, and no history of selling structural material.”
Donald stopped.
Dominic continued.
“The supplier transferred five point two million dollars to another company forty-eight hours later.”
He placed a second page on the table.
LAURENT PROJECT CONSULTING LLC.
Everyone looked at Bianca.
She went white.
Zachary muttered something under his breath.
I stared at her.
“Your company?”
“I…”
Bianca looked at him.
Then back at the page.
“I opened it.”
Beatrice nearly hissed.
“You stupid girl.”
Bianca’s head snapped toward her.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
For the first time all night, Bianca’s fear became anger.
“I was told it was for consulting.”
Donald looked at Zachary.
“By whom?”
Zachary said nothing.
Bianca laughed once.
A broken sound.
“Tell him.”
“Bianca.”
“Tell your father why you had me sign incorporation papers.”
The entire ballroom seemed to shrink around us.
Zachary’s voice lowered.
“It was temporary.”
“What was temporary?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“I needed a clean vendor.”
Dominic’s expression sharpened.
“For what?”
“Cash flow.”
Donald took one step forward.
“You created a vendor without legal approval?”
Zachary looked at his father.
“You’re going to stand there and pretend you don’t know what the project was facing?”
Something passed between them.
Not surprise.
History.
Dominic noticed.
So did I.
“What was the project facing?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
Gabriel opened another page.
“I can help.”
He placed a photograph on the table.
A concrete parking structure.
One side had partially collapsed.
Emergency crews.
Twisted beams.
A white tarp.
My stomach tightened.
“This happened nine months ago at the Westlake Veterans Medical Annex.”
I remembered the news.
Two workers killed.
Seven injured.
The accident had been blamed on a subcontractor.
Harrington Construction had publicly denied responsibility.
Dominic pointed to the supplier records.
“The same materials in these invoices were used on Westlake.”
Donald’s voice dropped.
“That investigation was closed.”
“Administratively,” Xavier said.
“Not magically.”
Bianca stared at the photograph.
Her face had become completely still.
I noticed.
“What?”
She didn’t answer.
“Bianca.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
Then the photograph.
“My brother died there.”
Silence.
Zachary closed his eyes.
And suddenly the affair changed shape.
Not disappeared.
Not excused.
Changed.
I looked at Bianca.
“You never told me.”
“You never asked me anything.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“My brother’s name was Adrian Laurent.”
The surname.
Laurent Project Consulting.
I understood.
“Zachary opened a company in your dead brother’s name?”
“Using mine.”
She looked at Zachary.
“He said it was how the settlement would be paid.”
Donald’s face drained.
“What settlement?”
Bianca laughed through tears.
“The one your family offered me if I stopped asking why Adrian had filed three safety complaints before he died.”
Beatrice sat down.
For the first time all night, she looked old.
Zachary stared at Bianca.
“You said you deleted those emails.”
“I lied.”
The reversal landed hard.
Bianca had not entered Zachary’s life as a mistress.
Not at first.
She had entered as the sister of a dead worker looking for answers.
Somewhere along the way, she made choices of her own.
Ugly ones.
But the beginning had been different.
Dominic turned another page.
“There’s more.”
I almost laughed.
Of course there was.
He placed a document beside our untouched wedding cake.
It had been electronically executed at 6:12 that evening.
Less than two hours before Zachary tied my wrists to a ceiling beam.
At the top:
HARRINGTON FEDERAL INFRASTRUCTURE PARTNERS — BENEFICIAL OWNERSHIP CERTIFICATION.
I read the first paragraph.
Then stopped breathing.
My name appeared beside one number.
51%.
“What is this?”
Zachary’s face changed.
Donald whispered, “Jesus Christ.”
Dominic looked at me.
“According to the federal filing, Genevieve, as of tonight, you became the majority owner of the company receiving Harrington’s next government contract.”
I looked at Zachary.
“I didn’t sign this.”
“I know,” Dominic said.
Then he turned the page.
The certification contained my electronic signature.
My Social Security number.
A scanned copy of our new marriage certificate.
And a statement declaring that I personally controlled the company’s finances.
Xavier’s voice became very quiet.
“If that filing goes through Monday morning, the federal fraud we’ve uncovered stops looking like Harrington family misconduct.”
He looked directly at me.
“It starts looking like Genevieve’s.”
And that was when I finally understood.
Zachary had not simply married me despite wanting Bianca.
May you like
Somebody had needed me to become Mrs. Harrington first.
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