Chapter 3 - The Signature Carmine Never Gave
“I did not forge your signature.”
Helena said it three times.
By the third, Carmine believed her less.
Rebecca didn’t accuse.
She asked questions.
“Who has access to the home office?”
“Carmine.”
“Who else?”
“Me.”
“Staff?”
“The house manager.”
“Anyone know Mr. DeLuca’s login?”
Helena looked toward Carmine.
He frowned.
“My passwords are stored in a hardware manager.”
“Where?”
He went still.
“Office safe.”
Helena laughed.
“So now I’m accused because I know where your safe is?”
“No,” Rebecca said. “You’re being asked because someone used information from it.”
Carmine walked out.
He returned five minutes later carrying the password device.
“Safe wasn’t forced.”
Rebecca examined it.
“Any missing records?”
Carmine opened the login history.
One access event.
2:13 a.m.
Three weeks earlier.
He had been in Chicago.
Helena had been home.
She saw the timestamp.
“You think I was sitting in your office at two in the morning?”
Carmine didn’t answer.
She turned toward Rebecca.
“Can you prove it?”
“Not yet.”
That phrase gave Helena confidence.
Until another bodyguard knocked.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We checked the internal camera archive.”
Helena’s face changed.
Carmine looked up.
“The office hallway camera?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
The clip was grainy.
2:11 a.m.
Someone approached the study.
Not Helena.
A man.
Tall.
Suit pants.
White shirt.
Face mostly turned away.
He used a key.
Entered.
Exited nine minutes later.
Helena stared.
“Who is that?”
Carmine paused the frame.
One detail was visible.
A silver cuff link.
Black stone center.
Carmine’s expression darkened.
“I know.”
“Who?”
“My cousin.”
Marco DeLuca.
Chief financial officer of DeLuca Development.
Helena looked genuinely confused.
“Why would Marco put assets in my name?”
That was the right question.
Rebecca called him.
Straight to voicemail.
Carmine called again.
Nothing.
Then one bodyguard said:
“Mr. DeLuca, Marco hasn’t been in the office today.”
“Where is he?”
“Unknown.”
Now Helena seemed relieved.
“See?”
Carmine looked at her.
“Not yet.”
She glared.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Marco may have used you.”
“For what?”
Rebecca answered.
“If he could move assets into your name, any later dispute might look like a marital transfer.”
Helena frowned.
“So?”
“So while everyone argues whether Carmine gifted property to his wife, someone else could be changing the underlying ownership records.”
Then Rebecca opened a deeper audit.
Marco had accessed DeLuca Heritage Holdings repeatedly.
One account stood out.
A reserve fund.
$14.2 million.
Three attempted wire authorizations.
All rejected.
Why?
Because the trust required two approvals.
Carmine.
And an independent trustee.
Marco didn’t have either.
Then Rebecca found his workaround.
He had tried to replace the independent trustee.
With whom?
Helena looked toward the screen.
A company called Beaumont Fiduciary Services.
She went pale.
Carmine saw it.
“You know them.”
“No.”
“Helena.”
Her voice changed.
“My brother works there.”
Silence.
“You have a brother in trust management?”
“We barely speak.”
Rebecca looked at her sharply.
“What’s his name?”
“Julian Beaumont.”
Carmine stared.
“You never told me your brother was a fiduciary.”
“You never asked.”
Rebecca typed.
Then stopped.
Julian Beaumont was not merely an employee.
He was president.
And three months before the attempted asset transfers, Helena had received $75,000 from Beaumont Fiduciary Services.
Carmine turned.
Her face drained.
“What was the money for?”
Helena whispered:
“A loan.”
May you like
Rebecca looked up.
“There’s no loan agreement.”
