“I never signed that.”
“We know.”
The room went still.
Mara slid the tablet toward me. On the screen was a document bearing my name.
My signature.
Except it wasn’t mine.
Not exactly.
It had the shape of mine, the rhythm, the long loop on the E. But it was too careful. Too clean. Whoever copied it had studied the form, not the hand.
“He forged it,” I whispered.
My father’s voice was calm. “That is one word for it.”
Mara continued. “The notary is employed by a law firm that has done work for Adrian’s company. We are confirming whether the notary witnessed the signature or simply stamped what was placed in front of him.”
My mother folded her arms. “And the company?”
Mara’s eyes sharpened. “That is where it becomes interesting.”
I looked up.
“Vale Capital Holdings has been under financial stress for at least eighteen months,” Mara said. “Adrian has used marital assets to secure business lines of credit. Some of those assets were not his to pledge.”
