Chapter 3 - Forty-Three Minutes
For a few seconds, all I could hear was the low hum of the air conditioner.
I opened the banking app.
The transfer was real.
Four hundred eighty thousand dollars had moved from the Carter Family Trust operating account into Hale Hospitality Group.
At 11:16 p.m.
One minute before my phone alerted me.
"What did you do?" I asked.
Marcus's expression changed.
Not guilty husband anymore.
Businessman.
Controlled voice. Careful hands. Eyes measuring danger.
"That transfer was authorized weeks ago."
"By who?"
"By the trustees."
"I'm the managing trustee."
He swallowed.
Serena looked away.
That told me enough.
My mother had built the trust before she died. It held the commercial building where my design firm operated, two rental properties, and the remaining proceeds from the sale of her construction company. I couldn't move large amounts without a second trustee's signature.
My second trustee was my father.
"My father would never approve this."
"He did," Marcus said.
I stepped closer. "Show me."
He reached for his phone.
Serena said, "Don't let him waste your time."
Marcus snapped, "Shut up."
"No," she said. "I'm done shutting up."
She turned to me. "The transfer is part of a bridge loan. Hale Hospitality is upside down on the Harbor Ridge project. If the money didn't arrive before midnight, their lender was going to trigger a default clause."
I looked at Marcus.
"You married me to save your company?"
"No."
Too fast.
"Then why is my family trust saving your company on our wedding night?"
He dragged a hand over his face. "I was going to tell you after the honeymoon."
I stared at him.
"After my money cleared?"
He didn't answer.
I called my father.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
A sick feeling crawled up my spine.
Dad had been downstairs twenty minutes ago, dancing badly with my aunt and laughing so hard he nearly dropped his champagne.
I called my maid of honor, Tasha.
She answered on the first ring.
"Where are you? Everyone's asking—"
"Find my dad. Right now."
Her voice changed. "Why?"
"Just find him."
I ended the call.
Marcus moved toward me.
"Danielle, we can fix the transfer tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"If it's so easy to fix tomorrow, why did it have to happen before midnight tonight?"
He had no answer.
My phone rang.
Tasha.
I answered.
She wasn't talking to me at first.
She was yelling at someone.
Then she said, breathless, "Dani, your dad isn't in the ballroom. His jacket is still on his chair, and security says someone walked him toward the service elevators fifteen minutes ago."
"Who?"
May you like
There was a pause.
"Marcus's mother."
