Chapter 8: The Collection She Tried to Erase
Vanessa crossed the ballroom before I could show the photograph to Victoria.
She moved quickly, her heels striking the polished floor, her face arranged into the kind of smile she used whenever she wanted to make cruelty look respectable.
"Nia, darling," she said, taking my elbow.
"We need to talk privately.""
I pulled my arm away.
"We have nothing to discuss.""
"Please don't make a scene.""
I glanced at the guests watching us.
"You should have thought about that before taking my mother's money.""
Her smile disappeared.
"Come with me. Now.""
"No.""
She leaned closer.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.""
"Then explain it.""
For a moment, fear flickered across her face.
Then she turned toward the ballroom doors.
"Fine. If you want the truth, you'll get it.""
I followed her into a quiet reception room, where Dad and Richard were already waiting.
Victoria came with me.
She closed the door and stood beside the table.
"Let's begin with the document Nia received.""
I placed my phone on the table.
Vanessa stared at the photograph.
"Where did you get that?""
"Someone sent it to me.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
Richard picked up the phone and enlarged the image.
His expression changed.
"Vanessa, what is the Carter Collection?""
She snatched the phone from his hand.
"An old business arrangement.""
Victoria folded her arms.
"Elena Carter's designs were never transferred to your ownership. The original contract confirms that.""
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"That document was never finalized.""
"It was signed by both parties.""
"Elena was ill. She wasn't in a position to make business decisions.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"She was my mother. She knew exactly what she was doing.""
Vanessa turned toward me.
"You were a child. You don't know anything about her business.""
"Then why are you so afraid of what her documents say?""
Her mouth snapped shut.
Richard stepped closer.
"You told me your company owned a collection of vintage designs that you planned to relaunch.""
"They were acquired legally.""
"From whom?""
Vanessa looked at Dad.
He stared at the floor.
Richard let out a bitter laugh.
"You used my investment to build a business around designs that may not belong to you?""
"Don't be ridiculous.""
"Then show me the contracts.""
She didn't answer.
Victoria placed a business card on the table.
"My attorney is preparing a formal request for the complete transfer history, including any agreements involving Elena Carter's designs. You should preserve all related records.""
Vanessa shoved the card away.
"You can't order me around.""
"No," Victoria replied.
"But a court may.""
The room fell silent.
I looked at Dad.
"Did you know Mom's collection was still being used?""
He rubbed his face.
"No.""
"Did you know Vanessa had the money?""
He hesitated.
"I knew she had helped with the household finances.""
"That's not what I asked.""
He looked at me.
"Yes. I knew some of the money had gone into her company.""
My chest tightened.
"And you let me believe it was gone?""
"I thought she was investing it. She told me it would eventually benefit the family.""
"Did you ever ask whether it was still mine?""
He couldn't meet my eyes.
Vanessa stepped between us.
"Marcus, don't let her twist this. You agreed to the arrangement.""
"What arrangement?"" I demanded.
She lifted her chin.
"Your father needed money to settle debts after Elena died. I helped him. In return, we agreed that I could manage certain assets.""
"Which assets?""
"The ones that were available.""
"Mom's designs weren't available. She left them to me.""
Vanessa's face hardened.
"You were a child. You couldn't possibly have managed a fashion collection.""
"So you decided to manage it for me?""
"I made it profitable.""
"By pretending you created it?""
"I never claimed to be the designer.""
I turned my phone toward her.
The message included another photograph, this time showing a magazine advertisement from three years earlier.
The headline read:
*VANESSA VALE PRESENTS A NEW ERA OF AMERICAN COUTURE.*
Beneath it was a gown with sculpted shoulders, a flowing train, and an ocean-inspired pattern of blue and gold.
My mother's design.
A design I'd seen in her notebook.
A design that had apparently been sold under Vanessa's company.
Richard stared at the advertisement.
"You told me those designs came from a studio in Milan.""
Vanessa's voice rose.
"I said they were developed with European influences.""
"You said you had purchased the collection outright.""
"I did!""
Victoria pointed to the photograph.
"Then provide the assignment agreement.""
Vanessa's fingers trembled.
She turned toward the door.
"I'm finished with this conversation.""
But Richard stepped in front of her.
"Not until you tell me where my investment went.""
She glared at him.
"You have no right to question me.""
"I invested half a million dollars in your business. I have every right.""
Dad looked up sharply.
"Half a million?""
Richard turned toward him.
"Yes. Why?""
Dad's face became ashen.
Because the amount was almost identical to the money that had disappeared from my mother's trust.
I watched him make the connection.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
"You told me the money was used for the business.""
"It was.""
"Then why did you need Richard's investment?""
Vanessa didn't answer.
Richard took a step toward her.
"Where is the money?""
She pressed her lips together.
For several seconds, the only sound was the air conditioner humming above us.
Then she spoke.
"The company needed capital. The collection required manufacturing, marketing, and distribution.""
"That's not an answer.""
"I used the money to build something.""
"Something that belonged to Elena Carter?""
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"Elena was dead! Someone had to do something with those designs!""
The words struck the room like a gunshot.
I stared at her.
Victoria went completely still.
Dad whispered, "Vanessa.""
But Vanessa was too angry to stop.
"Those notebooks were sitting in boxes! Nobody was using them. Nobody cared about them. I saw an opportunity, and I took it.""
I felt sick.
"You stole my mother's work.""
"I made it valuable!""
"You stole it.""
Vanessa slapped her palm against the table.
"Do you have any idea what I had to sacrifice to build that company? I gave up years of my life. I worked with manufacturers, investors, and buyers. I turned a pile of sketches into a real business.""
"You could have done that with your own designs.""
Her eyes narrowed.
"I don't have to justify myself to you.""
Victoria stepped forward.
"You will have to justify yourself to the people who own those designs.""
Vanessa looked at Dad.
"Tell them the truth. Tell them you agreed.""
He swallowed hard.
"I agreed to move the money. I didn't agree to steal Elena's designs.""
"You signed the documents!""
"What documents?""
Vanessa froze.
Richard's voice dropped.
"Show us the original contract.""
She looked at him, then at me.
And for the first time, I understood something.
Vanessa hadn't simply taken my mother's money and designs.
She had been counting on the fact that nobody would ever look closely enough to discover what she'd done.
But someone had.
Someone who knew the collection.
Someone who knew the original agreement.
Someone who had sent me those photographs.
My phone vibrated again.
A new message appeared.
*THE ORIGINAL CONTRACT ISN'T THE ONLY DOCUMENT SHE HID. CHECK THE BACK OF YOUR MOTHER'S LAST SKETCHBOOK.*
I remembered the notebooks in my room.
I remembered the folded letter.
And I remembered that I'd never examined the back cover of the final sketchbook.
I looked at Victoria.
"I need to go home.""
"Why?""
"I think there's something else my mother left behind.""
Dad reached for his keys.
"I'll drive you.""
I stepped away.
"No.""
His face crumpled.
"Nia, please.""
I looked at him.
"You can help by telling the truth. Start there.""
Then I left the room.
Behind me, I heard Richard demand that Vanessa produce every financial record she possessed.
But I was already thinking about the sketchbook.
May you like
Because if my mother had hidden another document, she must have known someone would eventually try to erase her work.
And she had left me a way to prove it.
