Chapter 7 - The Man Who Had Been Watching RoseThe wedding venue was cleared.
Police interviewed everyone.
Grant stayed with Rose.
She sat on his lap inside a private library, clutching her small bouquet.
Daniel had picked up the flowers and tied them back together.
Rose whispered, “They’re ugly now.”
Grant looked down.
“No.”
“Some are broken.”
“They’re still beautiful.”
Rose studied them.
“Like me?”
Grant’s throat tightened.
“Who told you that you were broken?”
Rose looked toward the door.
Grant already knew.
“Vanessa?”
Rose nodded.
“When?”
“When I cried at night.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“What did she say?”
“That Daddy likes brave girls.”
He felt sick.
“And if I cry too much, you’ll get tired.”
Grant hugged her.
“Listen to me.”
Rose looked up.
“I could never get tired of you.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
She seemed to think.
“What if I cry a hundred times?”
“I’ll hug you a hundred times.”
“A million?”
“A million.”
She smiled faintly.
Then whispered, “Mommy Vanessa said Mommy Emma left because I cried.”
Grant froze.
“What?”
Rose looked frightened.
“Was I bad?”
Grant had to force himself to breathe.
“No.”
He held her face gently.
“Your mommy died in an accident.”
“I know.”
“You did nothing.”
“But Vanessa said maybe Mommy was tired.”
Grant’s eyes burned.
“She lied.”
Rose stared at him.
“Why?”
He had no answer a four-year-old should have to understand.
“Because she made a bad choice.”
Rose nodded.
Then she remembered something.
“The man said my other grandpa wants me.”
Grant went still.
“What man?”
“The phone man.”
“You heard him?”
She nodded.
“He came before my flowers.”
Grant’s pulse increased.
“You saw him?”
“Little bit.”
“What did he look like?”
Rose frowned intensely.
“Old.”
Grant almost smiled despite everything.
“How old?”
“Like Grandma.”
“What color hair?”
“White.”
“What else?”
She thought.
“He had a shiny stick.”
“A cane?”
Rose nodded.
“Did he say his name?”
“No.”
“What did Vanessa call him?”
Rose’s little eyebrows tightened.
“Mr. Boss.”
Grant stared.
“Voss?”
“Boss.”
Probably Voss.
Charles Voss himself had been in the bridal suite.
That meant the man on the recording was not simply an intermediary.
The architect of the plan had personally come to ensure Grant signed.
Michael entered.
Grant told him.
Michael’s face hardened.
“Police need that statement carefully taken by someone trained to interview children.”
“I know.”
“We should not ask more.”
Grant nodded.
He hated treating Rose’s memories like evidence.
She was his daughter.
Not a witness.
But others had turned her into one long before he realized.
Michael sat across from Grant.
“I checked Oliver Crane.”
“And?”
“He exists.”
Grant frowned.
“Real attorney?”
“Yes.”
“For Voss Global.”
Grant’s stomach tightened.
“Of course.”
“He drafted a trust modification document three weeks ago.”
“How do you know?”
“Metadata from a copy Daniel found in Vanessa’s luggage.”
Grant stared.
“Daniel searched her things?”
“Police did after she consented.”
“What does the document say?”
Michael hesitated.
“It creates a marital asset trust.”
“And?”
“Your voting shares would transfer into it.”
“Vanessa becomes co-trustee?”
“Temporarily.”
“What does that mean?”
Michael looked grim.
“The document includes a provision granting successor control if one trustee is deemed mentally or physically unavailable.”
Grant frowned.
“I’m not unavailable.”
“Not yet.”
Silence.
Grant understood slowly.
“You think they were planning to make me unavailable.”
“I don’t know.”
Grant felt cold.
Michael continued.
“But there’s something stranger.”
“What?”
“The successor trustee isn’t Vanessa.”
Grant stared.
“Who?”
“Richard Vale.”
Grant stood.
The plan was larger than seducing Grant into signing.
Vanessa was temporary.
Disposable.
Richard would gain authority if Grant were removed.
“Why would Vanessa agree?”
Michael shook his head.
“Maybe she didn’t know.”
Grant thought about her reaction during the recording.
She had asked whether she would be co-trustee.
Maybe they told her enough to keep her useful.
Not enough to reveal she was temporary.
Just as Charles Voss manipulated Margaret.
Everyone was being used.
Except perhaps Charles himself.
Grant’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Michael gestured not to answer immediately.
Police began tracing.
Grant answered.
“Grant Harrison.”
An older man spoke.
“You canceled a very expensive wedding.”
Grant’s blood ran cold.
Charles Voss.
Grant kept his voice calm.
“You were in the bridal suite.”
A soft laugh.
“Rose has good ears.”
“Stay away from my daughter.”
“Our granddaughter.”
“No.”
“Biology disagrees.”
“The law doesn’t.”
Charles paused.
“You sound like Emma.”
Grant’s breath caught.
“You didn’t know her.”
Another pause.
“Are you sure?”
Grant gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
Charles answered quietly.
“I met my daughter six months before she died.”
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