Chapter 5 - The Locksmith’s Lie
At two in the morning, Marissa woke to an alert from the penthouse security system.
Someone had attempted to use Anthony’s canceled access code.
A second attempt followed.
Then a third.
Marissa checked the hallway camera.
Anthony stood outside with Eleanor.
He pressed the intercom.
“Marissa, open the door.”
She did not answer.
Julian slept beside her in the guest bedroom. She had moved him there because it was farther from the entrance.
Anthony pressed the intercom again.
“This is ridiculous. I need my documents.”
Marissa spoke through the system.
“Contact Rebecca in the morning.”
“This is my residence.”
“The property is owned by my personal trust. Your access has been suspended.”
Eleanor stepped toward the camera.
“How dare you lock a mother out in the middle of the night?”
“You have your own apartment.”
“You cannot separate me from my grandson.”
“Julian is sleeping.”
Anthony placed a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder and looked directly into the camera.
“You are making a mistake you cannot undo.”
Marissa ended the connection.
They remained in the hallway for fifteen minutes before leaving.
At six thirty, the security desk called.
Anthony had returned with a locksmith.
Marissa dressed quickly, woke Julian, and carried him into the living room. She contacted Rebecca and opened the emergency investor meeting on her laptop.
“Keep the camera running,” Rebecca instructed.
Outside, Anthony was speaking loudly enough for the hallway microphone to record him.
“My wife is having a breakdown,” he told the locksmith. “She locked herself inside with our son.”
The locksmith hesitated.
“Building management says your access is restricted.”
“She owns the apartment, but this is a marital residence.”
Eleanor added, “My grandson may be in danger.”
Marissa felt her stomach turn.
Anthony knew Julian was safe.
He knew security officers were inside the penthouse.
He knew Marissa was listening.
Still, he was willing to describe her as unstable because he believed the accusation would frighten her into opening the door.
The locksmith examined the deadbolt.
“I need written authorization.”
Anthony’s voice hardened.
“You have my authorization.”
A tool scraped against the lock.
One of the security officers looked at Marissa.
“That is enough.”
Marissa nodded.
She carried Julian farther from the entrance, opened the door remotely, and stepped into view only after the officers took their positions.
The door swung inward.
Anthony’s face showed triumph before he noticed the laptop.
Marissa turned the screen.
Eight investors watched from New York, London, Toronto, and Singapore.
“Eight investors just heard you lie.”
Anthony’s confidence collapsed.
Rebecca spoke through the laptop.
“We found where he moved the money.”
Marissa opened the folder delivered by the forensic team minutes earlier.
The records showed twelve million three hundred thousand dollars in unauthorized transfers.
Four million had purchased properties through shell companies.
Three million had been placed into an investment trust.
More than two million had paid Eleanor’s expenses.
The remaining money had been transferred into an account intended to finance Anthony’s plan to take control of a major Vale Meridian project after forcing Marissa out.
Anthony lowered himself to his knees.
He did not look ashamed.
He looked terrified.
“Marissa, I did this for us.”
She held the records against her chest.
“You told strangers I was dangerous to my own child.”
“I panicked.”
“You tried to enter my home after being told not to.”
“I needed to speak to you.”
“You moved twelve million dollars.”
“I invested it.”
“In yourself.”
Eleanor began crying again.
“I didn’t know where the money came from.”
Marissa turned to her.
“Your name is on the trust.”
“Anthony handled everything.”
“You signed the papers.”
“He said it was for tax planning.”
Anthony stood abruptly.
“Stop questioning her. This was my decision.”
Marissa finally understood.
Even now, he was not protecting Eleanor.
He was controlling the story.
If he accepted blame, Eleanor could keep the properties. If Eleanor claimed ignorance, the trust might remain beyond the company’s reach.
Rebecca’s voice came through the laptop.
“Anthony, anything you say is being recorded.”
May you like
He looked at the screen.
For the first time, he seemed to realize that charm would not save him.
