the investment terms that gave North Quay its majority interest.”
Graham took the documents and flipped through them.
I watched recognition begin to settle across his face.
“You’re the investor?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since before we married.”
His eyes moved toward the windows.
“And Saltmere House?”
“Owned by North Quay Property Holdings and leased to Voss Coastal.”
Bianca took one step away from him.
Marjorie lowered herself into a chair.
“But the cars,” she whispered.
“The accounts.
The house staff.”
“The company paid some of those expenses,” Naomi explained.
“Other costs were financed under agreements with North Quay.
Those obligations and the disputed personal expenses are now being reviewed.”
Graham looked at me as though I had changed into a stranger.
“You lied to me.”
I considered that accusation carefully.
“I concealed the identity of the investor.
But I never forged a signature, invented a supplier, or assaulted you in front of guests.”
His face reddened.
“You planned this.”
“No.
I spent six years trying to prevent this.”
Bianca stepped forward.
“Graham, don’t say anything else.”
I turned toward her.
“That’s sensible advice, Bianca.
Especially for a commissioned notary who signed an acknowledgment stating that I appeared before her.”
Her expression emptied.
Naomi slid the disputed assignment across the table.
“Were you present when Mrs.
Voss signed this document?”
Bianca stared at the page.
“I don’t remember.”
“The acknowledgment gives a specific date and location,” Naomi said.
“It states that Lena appeared before you in person.”
Bianca looked toward Graham.
He didn’t look back.
I opened a slim folder of my own.
“On that date, I was in Halifax attending an engineering conference.
My flight records, hotel receipt, and event photographs establish where I was.
I did not appear before you.”
Bianca swallowed.
“Maybe someone made an administrative mistake.”
“A mistake that transferred fourteen million dollars of intellectual property?” Philip asked.
Graham slammed his palm against the table.
“Enough! You can’t prove any of this!”
Daniel Mercer opened his laptop.
“Mr.
Voss, the independent examination is ongoing.
But our preliminary findings include the creation history of the disputed approval, the payment destination, the notarized document, and the communications authorizing the transaction.”
He turned the screen toward Naomi and Philip.
“Formal reports will follow after authentication.
Until then, the evidence is being preserved.”
Graham’s breathing became shallow.
I could see him searching for someone to blame.
For years, whenever a project failed or a contract disappeared, he had blamed suppliers, employees, competitors, or me.
But there was nowhere to redirect the question now.
“Did you know the patent wasn’t yours?” I asked.
He said nothing.
“Graham.”
His eyes lifted.
“Did you know?”
Finally, he answered.
“I built the company that made that invention valuable.”
“No,” I said.
“My mother helped me develop that invention before I ever met you.
Your company was licensed to use it.
That’s not ownership.”
He turned toward Naomi.
“Tell her to stop this.
We have a fourteen-million-dollar agreement waiting.”
“The buyer has suspended the transaction,” Philip said.
Graham went still.
“What?”
“Harbor Meridian will not acquire disputed rights.
We are preserving all transaction records and reviewing the representations provided to us.”
For the first time that morning, Graham seemed to understand that the problem could not be solved by shouting.
Marjorie leaned toward me.
