Chapter 5 - Grant’s Last Lie
Three weeks later, Grant walked into mediation believing he still had leverage.
He brought two attorneys.
I brought Rebecca.
Grant sat opposite me.
“You look good,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“You always liked winning.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“It is to your father.”
Rebecca opened a folder.
“Mr. Whitaker, shall we begin?”
Grant leaned back.
“My offer is simple. I waive claims against most Hartwell assets in exchange for the townhouse, the Hamptons property, and forty million dollars.”
I stared at him.
Then laughed.
His attorney shifted uncomfortably.
“What?” Grant demanded.
“The townhouse belongs to Hartwell Family Properties.”
He blinked.
“The Hamptons house belongs to my father’s trust.”
His jaw tightened.
“And according to our prenup, you have no claim to either.”
Grant looked at his attorneys.
Nobody contradicted me.
“So,” I continued, “you’re requesting forty million dollars and two houses you never owned.”
His face reddened.
“I gave you five years.”
I stared at him.
“You gave me five years?”
“I stayed through the treatments.”
Rebecca quietly said, “Careful, Mr. Whitaker.”
He ignored her.
“I wanted children.”
“So did I.”
“You failed.”
The room became silent.
I expected pain.
Instead, I felt clarity.
“No, Grant.”
I removed the wedding ring I had brought specifically for that moment and placed it on the table.
“My treatments failed.”
I pushed the ring toward him.
“My marriage failed because of you.”
He stared at it.
Rebecca slid another folder forward.
“Now the financial matter.”
Grant didn’t touch it.
“What financial matter?”
“Northstar.”
“That was Meredith.”
“Some of it.”
Grant looked up.
Rebecca continued.
“We found another beneficiary.”
His attorney whispered something to him.
Too late.
Rebecca placed a photograph on the table.
A man leaving a bank in Panama City.
Grant’s face changed.
I noticed.
“Who is he?” I asked.
Grant said nothing.
Rebecca answered.
“Thomas Whitaker.”
I frowned.
Grant’s father had supposedly been living quietly in Florida.
Rebecca continued.
“Grant and Meredith weren’t moving the money solely for themselves.”
I looked at Grant.
“They were moving it for your father?”
Grant finally spoke.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“My father was going to lose everything.”
“So you stole from my company.”
“I was protecting my family.”
I stared at him.
“I was your family.”
He looked away.
That was the answer.
The investigation eventually showed that Thomas Whitaker had accumulated massive private debts. Grant and Meredith had begun siphoning funds to protect Whitaker family assets.
Skye had been another piece of the plan.
A new wife.
A child.
A future trust.
A fresh start financed by Hartwell money.
Except Skye refused to participate.
She gave Rebecca every message Grant had ever sent her.
The divorce agreement was signed six weeks later.
Grant received what our prenup required.
Nothing more.
Meredith was removed from every Hartwell-funded position and became part of the ongoing financial investigation.
And Skye?
She disappeared from Grant’s life.
But not from mine.
Because two months after the divorce, she called me.
“Evelyn?”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
I waited.
“I’m pregnant.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Grant’s?”
“No.”
I exhaled.
Then she said:
May you like
“And there’s something else you need to know about your medical records.”
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