At least, that was the story.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
“Your father has spent three years respecting your marriage,” Evelyn said. “He has not interfered. He has not threatened. He has not touched Julian’s company, although he could have done so many times.”
I looked up.
“And now?”
“Now your husband publicly humiliated Arthur Vance’s only child while standing beside investors who believe CrossTech is financially stable.”
Her finger tapped the screen.
“It is not.”
A chill moved through me.
Evelyn continued, “CrossTech owes money to three private lenders. Two are indirectly tied to your father’s investment network. Julian also used projected contracts from Vance Logistics as leverage in his expansion pitch.”
I frowned. “But Vance Logistics never signed with CrossTech.”
“No,” Evelyn said. “Because you advised your father not to mix business with your marriage.”
I remembered that conversation.
Early in my marriage, my father had offered to help Julian discreetly. A contract. A partnership. Something clean and respectable. I had refused. I wanted Julian to succeed without being accused of depending on my family.
