Arthur the notary didn’t smile. He looked completely detached, a corporate mercenary hired to execute a legal execution. “Shall we proceed, Mr. Miller? I have another appointment in thirty minutes.”
“Of course,” Bruno said, walking over to his desk. He sat down in his leather chair, entirely unaware that beneath his feet lay the evidence of his own undoing. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick stack of documents—documents that looked identical to the ones I had just hidden.
“Valerie, come sit down,” Bruno said, his voice dripping with false warmth. “Arthur here has the paperwork for our mortgage restructuring. It’s going to save us nearly a thousand dollars a month. I just need your signature on the authorization pages, and we’re good to go.”
He flipped to the back of the document, exposing only the signature lines. The rest of the pages were cleverly folded back, obscured by a heavy binder clip. He slid a sleek, gold Montblanc pen across the desk toward me.
“Just sign right here, honey. Where the yellow ‘X’ is.”
I looked down at the pen. Then I looked at the signature line. It didn’t say Mortgage Restructuring Application. In tiny, microscopic print at the very bottom of the page, it read: Grantor: Valerie Miller (née Vance). Grantee: The C&B Legacy Trust.
If I signed this, I lost my home. If I didn’t sign this, Bruno would know I knew. He would know I had found the safe. And given the life insurance policy I had just discovered, if he knew I was onto him, I might not make it out of this house alive.
“Valerie?” Bruno’s voice lost its warmth, a cold, metallic threat slicing through his tone. “Is there a problem? Grab the pen.”
I looked up, forcing a nervous, ditzy laugh. “Oh, you know me, Bruno. My hands are so slippery from the furniture polish. Let me just go wash them in the bathroom first, and then I’ll sign whatever you need.”
I turned to leave, but Bruno’s hand shot out across the desk, grabbing my wrist with a terrifying, crushing grip. The gold pen clattered against the wood.
“You don’t need to wash your hands, Valerie,” Bruno whispered, his eyes flashing with a sudden, psychotic rage. He pulled me closer, his grip tightening until my bones popped. “Arthur is a very busy man. Sign the paper. Now.“
I looked at Arthur, the notary. He didn’t even blink. He just stared at his watch. He was in on it. They were all in on it.
