Chapter 5: The Man Behind the Curtain
Monday morning came cold and clear.
I was at my desk by seven.
The separation documents Marcus had drafted were in a folder to my left.
Diane's preliminary report on Daniel Forde's access logs was open on my screen.
At eight-fifteen, Daniel walked past my office door, coffee in hand, and raised it in his usual morning salute.
I raised mine back.
At nine, I called him in.
He sat across from me in the chair he'd occupied a hundred times.
Relaxed.
His jacket was pressed.
His expression was open and easy.
"How was the wedding?" he said.
"Interesting," I said.
"Daniel, I'm doing a routine internal audit of executive inbox access.
I need you to walk me through any external communications you sent from that account in the last six months."
Something moved behind his eyes.
Just a flicker.
Gone in under a second.
"Sure," he said.
"I'll pull the logs."
"I already have them."
He looked at the folder on my desk.
He didn't reach for it.
"There was a communication sent from the executive inbox eleven weeks ago," I said.
"To a financial research firm called Meridian Trace.
It contained a detailed brief on my personal holdings, my identity structure, and a request to confirm the beneficial ownership of Voss Capital." I opened the folder and turned it to face him.
"This is the email."
He looked at it.
His coffee cup was still in his hand.
He set it down on the edge of my desk.
"Isabelle—"
"How long have you known Grant Ashworth?"
A breath.
A decision being made behind a face trying to stay neutral.
"We went to the same college," he said.
"We lost touch.
He reached out about eighteen months ago."
"Right around the time he started dating me."
Daniel said nothing.
"He asked you to find out who I really was."
"He asked me if you were who you said you were.
That's all.
He said he was serious about you and wanted to know he wasn't being misled."
"And you decided that was your call to make."
"I thought I was protecting the company.
If you were building a personal relationship under a false identity, that created risk for Voss—"
"Stop." I kept my voice level.
"You sent confidential ownership information about this firm to an outside research company on behalf of a man you went to college with.
You did it without my knowledge, without board approval, and without legal review.
And then you watched me plan a wedding to the man you'd been feeding information to for eighteen months." I looked at him.
"That's not protecting the company, Daniel.
That's betraying it."
His jaw tightened.
"I didn't know he was going to—"
"Use it the way he did?"
Silence.
"Did he tell you about the family debt?"
Daniel looked at the window.
"He did," I said.
"You knew about Harold's loans.
You knew Grant needed a solution.
And you handed him one."
"I didn't know he was going to hjt you." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
"I want you to know that.
Whatever else you think of me, I didn't know it would go that far."
"But you knew enough to be afraid it might.
That's why you sent that text from the unknown number."
His hands went flat on the desk.
"You told me this was going to get worse for me," I said.
"What did you mean?"
He didn't answer.
"Daniel.
What does Grant have planned?"
"He has a lawyer," he said finally.
"He's filing for a legal claim against Voss Capital.
He's arguing that your use of a false identity during the relationship constitutes fraudulent misrepresentation in the formation of the marriage contract.
He wants a share of the firm valued at the date of the wedding."
The room was very quiet.
"He's going to try to take part of Voss," I said.
"He thinks he has a case.
His lawyer apparently agrees."
I closed the folder.
I straightened it on my desk until the edges were perfectly aligned.
"Thank you for telling me," I said.
"HR will be in touch this afternoon regarding your separation terms.
Please don't access any company systems after you leave this room."
Daniel stood.
He picked up his coffee cup.
He looked like he wanted to say something else.
He didn't.
At the door, he stopped with his back to me.
"For what it's worth," he said, "I think he's going to lose."
"I know he is," I said.
"But that's not worth very much right now."
He left.
I watched the door close.
Then I picked up the phone and called my litigation attorney.
"Grant Ashworth is about to file a claim against Voss Capital," I said.
"I want to be ready before he finishes signing the paperwork."
"What kind of claim?"
"Fraudulent misrepresentation in a marriage contract."
A pause.
Then: "He married you knowing who you were and he's claiming you defrauded him?"
May you like
"Yes."
"Isabelle," my attorney said, "I'm going to enjoy this one."
