🌴 He Bought Paradise With Our Daughter’s Money

Chapter 03 - The Signature Looked Exactly Like Mine

At four that afternoon, Lila was asleep beside me with one sandy foot sticking out from under the hotel blanket.

I sat on the floor of our room because I did not trust my knees.

Mara was on speakerphone.

"Read me the number again."

"Eight hundred ninety thousand."

"Loan or line of credit?"

"Line of credit."

"Secured by what?"

I looked at the PDF on my laptop.

"Our house."

Mara was quiet.

"And?"

I swallowed.

"Hale Coastal shares. A brokerage account. And something listed as custodial reserves."

"That may be Lila's account."

"I know."

"Claire, I need you to listen carefully. Do not contact Camden about this."

"I already confronted him."

"I mean again."

I closed my eyes.

The air conditioner hummed.

Outside the balcony doors, families laughed around a pool bright enough to look artificial.

"There's a signature."

"Yours?"

"It looks like mine."

"Did you sign it?"

"No."

"Are you certain?"

I almost snapped at her.

Then I remembered Camden on the beach.

You signed more than you think.

"Yes," I said. "I'm certain."

The document was dated eleven months earlier.

I knew exactly where I had been that day.

Lila had been at Children's Hospital for a routine cardiac follow-up. I had spent six hours in a waiting room watching cartoons on mute while she slept against my chest.

Camden had texted that he was stuck in meetings.

At 2:41 that afternoon, according to the loan document, I had supposedly appeared before a notary across town and signed a spousal consent pledging our home as collateral.

I zoomed in.

The signature was excellent.

Not similar.

Mine.

The long loop in the C.

The slight backward slant in Bennett.

Even the small break in the line before the final e.

"Could he have copied it electronically?" I asked.

"Very possibly."

"Is that enough to prove fraud?"

"Not by itself."

My throat tightened.

"So I'm trapped."

"No."

Mara's voice sharpened.

"Do not say that."

I stared at Lila.

She slept with both hands under her cheek.

"You are not trapped. But we need evidence before he knows exactly what we're looking for."

I told her about Sienna's note.

There was another silence.

"Do you plan to go to Villa Fourteen?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Mara."

"You are on an island with a man who may have forged your signature on an eight-hundred-ninety-thousand-dollar credit facility. You are not walking into a private villa alone because his mistress passed you a note."

"Then what do I do?"

"Make her come to you."

I sent Sienna one message from a new encrypted number Mara had helped me set up.

Lobby bar. 5:30. Public place. Come alone.

She responded two minutes later.

Okay.

At 5:28, I sat at a table where I could see both exits.

Lila was in the resort's supervised children's room fifteen yards away, building a tower with wooden blocks under the eye of two staff members. I had resisted leaving her anywhere since arriving, but Mara had been blunt.

"You need both hands and your full attention for thirty minutes."

Sienna appeared wearing a cream cover-up and no makeup.

Without the sunglasses and beach confidence, she looked younger.

Tired, too.

She sat across from me.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then she said, "I didn't know about Lila's money."

I looked at her.

"I know how that sounds."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

She rubbed her thumb against the edge of a napkin.

"I knew he was married."

There it was.

No excuse.

No misunderstanding.

Just the truth.

"I knew about you," she continued. "He told me the marriage was over emotionally. That you were staying together until some business issues were settled."

I said nothing.

"He said you slept in separate rooms."

"We don't."

Her eyes dropped.

"I know that now."

"Did you care then?"

She winced.

Good.

Some cruel part of me wanted her to.

"I cared enough to ask," she said. "Not enough to stop."

That answer was so honest it disarmed me for half a second.

I hated her more for being human.

"What is the four hundred thousand dollars?"

She looked around.

"Camden is selling something."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"You flew to a private island with him and you don't know?"

"I wasn't supposed to be part of that meeting."

"What meeting?"

She leaned closer.

"A man came yesterday. Older. Gray suit, even though it was ninety degrees. Camden met him in the marina office for almost two hours."

"Name?"

"I heard Camden call him Mr. Voss."

I typed it into my phone.

"Then what?"

"Camden was furious afterward. He said the transfer had been delayed because of an authorization problem."

"What transfer?"

"Four hundred twelve thousand."

The exact number on my screenshot.

My mouth went dry.

"Why do you know the amount?"

"Because he screamed it into the phone in the bathroom."

I stared at her.

"He said, 'I already moved four-twelve through Claire. I can't move it again.'"

Through Claire.

The words landed like ice water.

Sienna watched my face.

"That's why I wrote the note."

"Why help me?"

She looked away.

"Because I thought I was the woman he was leaving you for."

The honesty of it was ugly.

"I know," she said quickly. "I know how disgusting that sounds."

"It sounds accurate."

Her eyes filled, but she did not cry.

"He wasn't leaving you for me."

"No."

"He was leaving both of us."

That got my attention.

She opened her bag and took out her phone.

There was a photograph.

Camden stood at a marina counter, signing papers.

Beside him was a black leather document case.

On the counter lay two passports.

One was his.

The other was not mine.

I enlarged the photo.

The name was partially covered.

But I could read the first name.

MICHAEL.

"Who is Michael?"

"I don't know."

She swiped.

Another photograph.

This one showed a wire instruction sheet.

Beneficiary: Northstar Fiduciary Holdings.

Jurisdiction: Cayman Islands.

Amount: $412,000.

My pulse began to pound.

"Send these to me."

She hesitated.

"Send them."

"I will."

"Now."

She did.

My phone vibrated twice.

I forwarded everything to Mara.

Sienna watched me.

"There's more."

Of course there was.

"There is always more," I said.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small silver key.

A number was stamped into the metal.

317.

"I found this in Camden's shaving kit."

"What does it open?"

"I don't know."

"Then why are you giving it to me?"

"Because when he realized it was missing, he tore the villa apart."

She placed it on the table.

I did not touch it.

"Maybe it's a safe-deposit key."

"That's what I thought."

"Why didn't you ask him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He grabbed my wrist."

Her voice was quiet.

I looked at her wrist.

Makeup covered most of the bruise.

Not all.

My anger changed shape again.

It did not disappear.

I did not forgive her.

But I recognized fear when I saw it.

Before I could speak, my phone rang.

Mara.

I answered.

She did not say hello.

"Claire, get Lila and leave the hotel."

I stood immediately.

"What happened?"

"I pulled the county record on your mortgage."

My skin went cold.

"Mara—"

"The lender filed a notice this morning."

"What notice?"

"A default."

The room seemed to narrow.

"Default on what?"

"That line of credit."

I gripped the table.

"We've never missed a mortgage payment."

"This isn't your mortgage."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying the eight-hundred-ninety-thousand-dollar line is delinquent, and because your house was pledged as collateral, the lender has started enforcement."

I looked through the glass wall toward the children's room.

Lila had stacked three blocks and was clapping for herself.

"How long do I have?"

"I don't know yet."

"Mara."

"Claire, there's something else."

My hand tightened around the phone.

"The notary on your forged signature?"

"Yes."

"I know the name."

I waited.

Mara exhaled.