Chapter 5 - Lana Was Never Supposed to Own Thirty-Two Percent
Julian followed me into the Plaza’s private lounge.
Rebecca came with me.
Grace joined.
Martin closed the door.
Lana tried to enter.
Julian stopped her.
“Not now.”
Her face changed.
That was important.
Until that second, Lana believed she stood inside his circle.
Now the door closed in front of her.
Julian turned toward me.
“What did you find?”
Rebecca answered.
“We’re not conducting an interview tonight.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Of course you’re here.”
“I’ve represented Alexandra for sixteen years.”
“And profited handsomely.”
Rebecca smiled.
“I bill by the hour. You’ve been extraordinarily helpful lately.”
I almost laughed.
Julian did not.
Grace spoke.
“Why wasn’t Summit Crest disclosed?”
His expression settled into executive mode.
Professional.
Controlled.
“Because it is a private co-investment vehicle.”
“Owned by senior Reed Meridian personnel.”
“Yes.”
“And Lana.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She invested.”
“With what money?” I asked.
His eyes moved toward me.
“That’s private.”
“Not if Reed Meridian paid her outside consulting company over six hundred thousand dollars.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“She provided legitimate services.”
“While employed full-time.”
“She did work outside her normal scope.”
Grace shook her head.
“Julian, stop.”
That surprised him.
Grace had been his ally for years.
Not personally.
Professionally.
She admired him.
So did most people.
That was how institutions became vulnerable.
Admiration gradually replacing questions.
Grace continued.
“We have records suggesting Summit Crest received opportunities first reviewed by Reed Meridian.”
“That is false.”
“Good.”
She leaned forward.
“Then the independent review will confirm that.”
He stared.
No answer.
Then came the knock.
Lana.
Again.
This time she did not wait.
She opened the door.
“I need to know what’s happening.”
Julian turned.
“I said later.”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“I heard Summit Crest.”
Rebecca looked at me.
I nodded.
Lana entered.
Grace said, “Are you represented by counsel?”
Lana blinked.
“Why would I need counsel?”
No one answered.
That frightened her more.
Then I asked something I needed to know.
“Where did your thirty-two-percent interest come from?”
She looked at Julian.
He spoke first.
“Alexandra—”
“No.”
I looked at Lana.
“You.”
She swallowed.
“I invested.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand.”
I almost laughed.
Thirty-two percent of a vehicle with more than twenty million in gains for a quarter-million-dollar investment.
Either Julian was spectacularly generous or the equity compensated something else.
“Did you receive any additional grants?”
Lana looked toward him again.
“Some.”
“How much?”
“Julian said the founding interest recognized my strategic contribution.”
Grace asked, “What strategic contribution?”
Lana’s face reddened.
“I introduced investors.”
“Which investors?” Martin asked.
Silence.
Then Rebecca said softly, “Were you told Reed Meridian’s board approved Summit Crest?”
“Yes.”
Everyone looked at Julian.
“Who did he say approved it?” I asked.
Lana answered reluctantly.
“You.”
There it was.
Of course.
I had approved the affair’s business structure too.
Apparently imaginary Alexandra was extraordinarily accommodating.
“Did he show you documents?”
“Yes.”
“What documents?”
“Board consents.”
“Signed by me?”
Lana nodded.
Julian’s voice hardened.
“Enough.”
She turned.
“Were they fake?”
“Saying fake oversimplifies—”
“Oh my God.”
Her face drained.
“Were they fake?”
Julian did not answer.
That answer was enough.
Lana stepped away from him.
The woman who had worn my bracelet, traveled under my name, sat beside my husband at the Plaza, and owned thirty-two percent of his secret investment vehicle finally looked less like my replacement and more like another person who had trusted him.
Not innocent.
Never that.
But useful.
And perhaps used.
“What else did you tell her I approved?” I asked.
Julian stared at me.
No answer.
Lana answered instead.
“My employment transition.”
“What transition?”
Her face changed again.
“After the firm restructuring.”
Grace frowned.
“What restructuring?”
Julian closed his eyes.
Lana looked around the room.
“Nobody knows?”
I felt cold.
“Knows what?”
She swallowed.
“Julian said after the anniversary, Reed Meridian was going to separate the legacy funds from the growth platform.”
Martin stood.
“What?”
Lana kept talking now.
Fast.
Terrified.
“He said Summit Crest would become the new growth entity. Certain senior people would move. Communications. Private investments. Selected strategies.”
I looked at Julian.
The shape became clear.
He was not merely skimming opportunities.
He was preparing a future company.
Reed Meridian would keep mature funds.
Existing obligations.
Legacy investors.
Summit Crest would take faster-growing opportunities.
Select employees.
Select relationships.
And apparently Lana.
Julian had been building the future beside the institution that paid for it.
“When were you going to tell the board?” Grace asked.
“It was preliminary.”
“When?”
“We were testing options.”
“When?”
He raised his voice.
“Nothing had been finalized.”
Lana whispered, “You told me January.”
He turned toward her.
“Stop.”
She stared.
“You said January.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“I said stop talking.”
The room went silent.
I watched Lana understand the same thing Tessa, Holly, Brittany, and every woman in every bad story eventually understands.
Affection from a controlling man lasts exactly as long as obedience feels useful.
Lana’s eyes filled.
Then she did something Julian did not expect.
She took off the diamond bracelet.
Placed it on the table.
And said, “I want my own lawyer.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Good.”
Julian laughed without humor.
“Unbelievable.”
He looked at me.
“You poisoned her.”
“No.”
I looked toward the bracelet.
“You gave her something that was never yours to promise.”
His face tightened.
Then Martin’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
Looked at Grace.
Then at me.
“What?”
“The preservation team found a folder in Julian’s executive archive.”
Julian went completely still.
Martin continued.
“It’s called Project Northstar.”
Lana closed her eyes.
Apparently she knew that name too.
“What is Project Northstar?” I asked.
No one answered.
May you like
Then Lana whispered:
“The divorce plan.”
