Julian gave me a small nod.
Sit.
So I sat.
My father remained beside his own chair, humiliation darkening his face.
Julian took the seat beside me.
Ryan stared.
Finally, he tried to laugh.
“This is crazy.
No offense, Claire, but… really? She’s my sister.
She waits tables.”
Julian calmly poured sparkling water into my glass.
“She is the woman I intend to marry.”
Then he looked at Ryan.
“And if you speak about her that way again, the only property you’ll be managing is whatever apartment you can afford after your family company collapses.”
Ryan fell silent.
For the first time in my life, everyone in that room was adjusting themselves around me.
Natalie refused to accept it.
She leaned toward the table.
“Fiancée?” she repeated.
“Has she told you everything about herself?”
“Natalie,” my father warned.
She ignored him.
“Mr. Mercer, Claire isn’t some innocent woman you discovered.
When she was eighteen, she stole fifty thousand dollars from Dad’s company.
We kept it private to protect her.”
My stomach tightened.
There it was.
The accusation that had ruled twelve years of my life.
I looked at Julian.
He seemed almost bored.
He reached inside his jacket, pulled out a thick leather folder, and dropped it onto the table.
“A thief?” he said.
“Interesting. Because my forensic accountants found something very different.”
He opened the folder.
I remembered those missing funds.
At eighteen, I had been handling basic administrative work for my father.
Fifty thousand dollars had vanished from a reserve account I had access to.
