Chapter 3 - The Signature That Wasn’t Mine
My father’s Manhattan residence was not the place where I had grown up.
That had been a modest home outside Alexandria, Virginia, where my mother planted roses and Dad insisted on grilling hamburgers despite being terrible at it.
The Manhattan apartment came later.
Official dinners.
Advisory boards.
Consulting work after retirement.
People assumed men like my father lived surrounded by marble and staff.
In reality, Dad kept the place because it was secure, quiet, and close to several organizations he still advised.
That afternoon, it became the safest place in the world.
Evelyn helped me upstairs.
A nurse Dad had arranged met us inside.
Not because I was incapable.
Because someone finally understood I shouldn’t have to prove I was capable while healing.
Leo slept in a bassinet beside the sofa.
I sat with a pillow against my abdomen and called my attorney.
Her name was Rebecca Sloan.
She spoke calmly.
“Mrs. Prescott, I’ve reviewed preliminary records connected to your marital assets.”
“Call me Audrey.”
“All right, Audrey.”
She paused.
“There are irregularities.”
“What kind?”
“A line of credit tied to your marital residence.”
My heart skipped.
“Our apartment?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Approximately eight hundred thousand dollars.”
I sat upright too quickly.
Pain pulled across my incision.
“What?”
Rebecca continued.
“The authorization appears to include your signature.”
“I never signed anything like that.”
“That is why I’m calling.”
My mouth went dry.
“Dominic told me the apartment was almost paid off.”
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“There are also two personal guarantees connected to his investment firm.”
“How much?”
“Combined exposure could exceed two million.”
I stared at Leo.
“That’s impossible.”
“Did you ever guarantee business debt?”
“No.”
“Sign documents presented as routine tax paperwork?”
I thought.
Dominic often left documents on the kitchen counter.
“Sign here.”
“Accountant needs this.”
“Just standard paperwork.”
Had I signed something without reading?
Maybe.
But two million?
Rebecca seemed to hear the fear in my silence.
“We’re verifying signatures. Don’t assume anything yet.”
I looked toward Dad.
He stood across the room speaking quietly with Evelyn.
“Does my father know?”
“I briefed him generally.”
Of course.
“What happens now?”
“We freeze what we legally can. We notify relevant institutions that authorization is disputed. And you do nothing without counsel.”
“What about Leo?”
“We’ll file for temporary arrangements immediately.”
I closed my eyes.
“This is happening so fast.”
Rebecca’s voice softened.
“It feels fast because you stopped standing still.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Across town, Dominic was discovering that his day wasn’t improving.
He returned to our apartment in a rented sedan with Victoria beside him.
Serena and Arthur had gone home.
“Call Audrey again,” Victoria said.
“I have.”
“Then call Charles.”
“He won’t answer.”
Victoria removed her sunglasses.
“She’s trying to scare you.”
Dominic unlocked the apartment.
The first thing he noticed was silence.
No baby crying.
No Audrey moving through the rooms.
The second thing he noticed was the envelope on the entry table.
His name.
He opened it.
Inside was formal notice from Rebecca Sloan’s firm.
Victoria read over his shoulder.
“She cannot throw you out of your own apartment.”
Dominic didn’t respond.
Because the apartment wasn’t exactly his.
The down payment had come from a trust Audrey’s maternal grandmother created before Audrey was born.
Dominic had convinced himself that marriage made technicalities irrelevant.
Now technicalities mattered.
He walked toward the office.
His laptop was still there.
So were several files.
One drawer, however, was empty.
Dominic froze.
Victoria appeared in the doorway.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What was there?”
“Old financial records.”
“Important?”
Dominic turned too quickly.
“No.”
Victoria stared.
She knew her son.
“Dominic.”
“I said it’s fine.”
It wasn’t.
Two years earlier, Dominic’s investment firm had begun losing money.
Not catastrophically at first.
A few bad positions.
A failed hospitality acquisition.
Then an investor withdrew.
Then another.
Dominic told Audrey business was expanding.
In reality, he had been borrowing to cover losses.
Audrey’s financial profile had become useful.
Very useful.
She had excellent credit.
Family trusts.
Assets.
A debt-free vehicle.
Equity.
Dominic convinced himself he wasn’t stealing.
He was borrowing against a future they shared.
When the firm recovered, everything would be repaid.
She would never know.
That was how he justified the first signature.
Then the second.
He had never expected Audrey to leave.
Because Audrey never left.
She forgave.
She waited.
She adjusted.
Until today.
His phone rang.
His business partner, Caleb Monroe.
Dominic answered.
“Hey.”
“What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Our bank called.”
Dominic’s stomach dropped.
“About what?”
“Personal guarantees are under review.”
Dominic walked away from Victoria.
“That’s routine.”
“No, it isn’t. Someone disputed authorization.”
“Who?”
“You tell me.”
Dominic looked toward the office.
“I’ll handle it.”
“You better. We have a capital meeting Monday.”
The call ended.
Victoria appeared behind him.
“What is going on?”
Dominic snapped.
“Stop asking.”
Her expression hardened.
“Do not speak to me that way.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Not now, Mom.”
He called Audrey again.
This time she answered.
“Hello?”
His anger vanished immediately.
“Audrey.”
Silence.
“Where are you?”
“I’m safe.”
“With your father?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. You took Leo.”
“I took our five-day-old son somewhere safe after you left us outside a hospital.”
“I didn’t leave you stranded.”
“You gave me twelve dollars.”
“I knew you had cards.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Dominic paced.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“Audrey.”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“We need to discuss this privately.”
“My attorney will contact you.”
“I don’t want to talk to some lawyer.”
“You should.”
Dominic’s throat tightened.
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth.”
“About what?”
There it was.
Not anger.
Fear.
I heard it.
And once I heard it, everything changed.
“What are you worried I told them?”
Dominic said nothing.
I looked across the room at my father.
Dad was watching me.
Not interfering.
Just listening.
“Dominic?”
“You’re emotional.”
“I’m actually calmer than I’ve been in years.”
“You had a baby five days ago.”
“And?”
“You’re exhausted.”
“And?”
“This isn’t the time to destroy our marriage.”
I looked at Leo.
“You did that outside the hospital.”
Dominic exhaled.
“I made a bad decision.”
“You made hundreds.”
“Audrey—”
“Did you use my signature on loans?”
Silence.
Complete silence.
My entire body became cold.
“Dominic.”
“That’s complicated.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“You signed financial documents.”
“Did I sign those loans?”
“Audrey—”
“Answer.”
He didn’t.
I whispered, “Oh my God.”
“It was for us.”
“For us?”
“For the company.”
“That is not us.”
“If the company succeeds, our family succeeds.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Dominic’s voice sharpened.
“Do not accuse me of crimes over the phone.”
I stared ahead.
The man I married had disappeared completely.
Or maybe he had never existed.
I ended the call.
Dad walked over.
“What did he say?”
I looked at him.
“He didn’t deny it.”
My father sat beside me.
He had commanded thousands of people.
But when he reached for my hand, he was simply Dad.
“We’ll deal with it.”
“I feel stupid.”
“Don’t.”
“I trusted him.”
“That’s not stupidity.”
“I should have known.”
“Knowing how to recognize betrayal only comes after someone betrays you.”
I looked at him.
“You warned me.”
“I warned you to learn who he was.”
Dad’s expression softened.
“You learned.”
Late that evening, Rebecca called again.
The preliminary document review showed multiple signatures that did not match archived examples of mine.
There would need to be experts.
Banks.
Attorneys.
Possibly investigators.
But Rebecca had found something else.
“Audrey, did Dominic ever tell you his company was seeking outside funding using your family trust as evidence of financial backing?”
“No.”
“Because several investor presentations reference ‘Brooks family capital support.’”
My stomach twisted.
“There is no support.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“How many investors?”
“At least six.”
I looked toward Dad.
He had heard.
His jaw tightened.
“Do they mention my father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“They describe him as a retired senior government adviser with extensive institutional connections.”
Dad actually laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the audacity was remarkable.
Dominic had spent years pretending my father was irrelevant while quietly implying his connections supported Dominic’s company.
Rebecca continued.
“There’s another meeting scheduled Monday. According to an email chain we obtained through records tied to a jointly administered account, Dominic plans to introduce a ‘major Brooks family commitment.’”
My heart hammered.
“What commitment?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Dad stood.
“When is the meeting?”
Rebecca gave the time.
Monday.
10 a.m.
Dad looked at me.
I understood immediately.
Dominic still believed he could rescue himself.
He believed he could smooth everything over.
Convince investors.
Convince banks.
Maybe convince me.
But Monday morning, he planned to use my family name one more time.
May you like
And this time, the Brooks family was going to be in the room.
Because Dominic had built his business on the assumption that my silence was permanent—and on Monday, he was about to discover exactly how loud the truth could become.
