Chapter 6: The Account She Wasn't Meant to Find
Julian's solicitor was a man named Hargreaves — precise, unhurried, the kind of lawyer who had seen enough that very little surprised him anymore.
He listened to Julian on the phone for four minutes without interrupting.
Then he asked two questions.
Then he said he would need forty-eight hours.
Julian came back to the table.
"He wants to see the originals," he said.
"And he wants access to the full trust records for the past six years."
"Will Meredith give him access?"
"She doesn't have a choice.
The trust deed requires full disclosure to any solicitor acting on my behalf." He paused.
"She'll know the moment he files the request."
"She already knows something is happening," Genevieve said.
She showed him the message on her phone.
Julian read it.
Read it again.
"When did this come?"
"While you were on the phone."
He set the phone down.
"That's not Meredith's style."
"Then who?"
"I don't know." He looked at the message a third time.
"But someone is watching this conversation.
Or watching you."
Genevieve took her phone back.
"I've been followed before.
By people my father owed money to, years ago.
I know what it feels like." She paused.
"This feels like that."
Julian sat down.
For the first time since she had known him, he looked uncertain.
Not weak — uncertain.
There was a difference, and she noticed it.
"I owe you an apology," he said.
"You owe me a great deal more than that."
"Yes." He didn't argue.
"I do."
"But start with the apology."
"I handled the situation on the terrace badly.
I handled Eleanor badly.
I have spent a long time trusting Meredith's judgment over my own instincts because it was easier.
Because she's older.
Because she stepped in after our father died and I was twenty-six and completely lost, and she held everything together, and I have never stopped being grateful for that in a way that made it impossible to question her."
Genevieve said nothing.
"That is not an excuse," Julian said.
"I know that."
"No," she agreed.
"It isn't."
---
Hargreaves filed the disclosure request the following morning.
Meredith called Julian at seven forty-five.
"I assume this is your doing," she said.
"It's my trust, Meredith."
"It's a fishing expedition.
Hargreaves is thorough but he's going to spend forty-eight hours looking at records that have been properly managed for fifteen years and come back with nothing."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
A pause.
"Who put this in your head?"
"I put it in my head."
"Julian." Her voice shifted — not warmer, but more careful.
"I know what Genevieve told you.
I know she went to Diane.
Diane has been bitter about this family since I declined to include her in the estate restructuring eight years ago.
She has an axe to grind and she found a willing hand to swing it."
"The transfer records are real, Meredith."
"The transfers are real.
The interpretation of them is not." A beat.
"There are things about the way Father structured certain assets that I have never burdened you with because they are complicated and because my job as trustee is to carry that complexity so you don't have to."
"I'm asking you to burden me now."
Silence.
"Come to the estate," she said.
"Tonight.
We'll go through everything together.
I'll show you exactly what those accounts are and why they exist.
And then you can decide whether you still want Hargreaves crawling through fifteen years of records."
Julian looked across the room at Genevieve, who was watching him from the other chair.
"I'll come," he said.
"But I'm bringing someone with me."
The pause this time was longer.
"If you bring Genevieve Vance to this estate again," Meredith said, "I will not open the door."
"Then I'll come alone.
But Hargreaves continues regardless."
He ended the call.
Genevieve raised her eyebrows.
"She wants you to come alone."
"Yes."
"Are you going?"
Julian stood and straightened his jacket.
"Yes."
"That's a terrible idea."
"Probably." He picked up his coat.
"But she's my sister.
And if there is an explanation — a real one — I need to hear it from her directly."
Genevieve stood as well.
"And if there isn't one?"
Julian looked at her steadily.
"Then I'll know that too."
He left.
Genevieve stood in the hotel bar for a moment.
Then she sat back down, ordered a proper drink this time, and called Diane Ashworth.
"He's going to the estate alone tonight," she said when Diane picked up.
A sharp intake of breath.
"That's what she wants."
"I know."
"She's going to try to talk him back.
She's done it before.
She's very good at it."
"I know that too." Genevieve looked out the window.
"Is there anything else Eleanor left with you?
Anything beyond the transfer records?"
Diane was quiet for a moment.
"There was one other thing," she said slowly.
"Eleanor mentioned it but never sent it.
A name.
Someone inside the Sterling family's accounting firm who had flagged the transfers internally and been quietly let go three months later."
Genevieve sat up straighter.
"Do you have that name?"
"I have a first name.
Eleanor only ever heard it once.
May you like
She said it was a woman.
She said her name was Petra."
