Chapter 4 — The Brother’s Confession
Greg called me at six the next morning.
I almost did not answer.
Maya had advised me to direct all communication through attorneys, but something about the timing made me pick up.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Natalie, I need to talk to you.”
“You witnessed a document I never signed.”
Silence.
“I can explain.”
“Then explain it to my attorney.”
“Victor is telling everyone your father is going to have us arrested.”
“Did you witness my signature?”
“I didn’t know you hadn’t signed it.”
“The document was signed in front of you.”
“He told me you had already agreed. He said the bank needed a witness.”
“A witness to something you did not witness.”
Greg exhaled shakily.
“You don’t understand what it’s like dealing with him.”
I looked through the hotel window at the morning traffic below.
“You are speaking to the wrong person about that.”
“I want to make this right.”
“Why?”
Another silence.
Then he said, “Because Victor asked me to take the blame.”
We arranged to meet in a private conference room at Maya’s office.
Greg arrived alone, wearing jeans and a wrinkled shirt. Without the expensive jacket and confident smile he usually wore around Victor, he looked older than forty.
Maya placed a recorder on the table.
“You understand this conversation may be shared with investigators?”
Greg nodded.
“Victor began helping my restaurants three years ago,” he said. “The downtown location was losing money. I had loans. Tax debt. He said Hale Meridian could hire my company for hospitality consulting.”
“What consulting did you perform?” Rebecca asked.
“Almost none.”
“And you accepted more than nine hundred thousand dollars?”
“It wasn’t like that at first. He told me the payments were temporary transfers. Then he had me create invoices.”
Maya’s expression remained neutral.
“For services you did not provide.”
Greg looked down.
“Yes.”
He described how Victor had used his businesses to move money. Some payments returned to Hale Meridian through unrelated vendors. Others purchased furniture, vehicles and improvements for the Scottsdale house.
“Who owns the house?” I asked.
“Victor does.”
The room seemed to contract around me.
“He told me it belonged to a client.”
Greg rubbed his forehead.
“He bought it after the Aurora project started failing. He said he needed somewhere to keep money that banks could not reach.”
“Did he take women there?”
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Greg looked at me.
His hesitation was enough.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you know?”
“I suspected.”
“And you continued helping him.”
“He was paying my debts.”
There it was.
The reason everyone around Victor remained loyal.
Not love.
Dependency.
Victor gave people money, opportunities and protection. Then he made them believe losing him would mean losing everything.
“Tell me about the iPad,” I said.
Greg’s eyes shifted toward Maya.
“The iPad is not relevant to the financial investigation.”
“It is relevant to me.”
He swallowed.
“Victor called me after Richard arrived at your house.”
“After he slapped Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Greg removed his phone.
“He told me he had lost his temper. Then he said Richard was watching him like he was some kind of criminal.”
He searched through his messages.
“He asked what Liam wanted for his birthday. I said a new basketball hoop.”
“Then why the iPad?”
Greg placed the phone on the table.
A message from Victor appeared on the screen.
Forget the hoop. I’ll bring something Richard can’t ignore.
Another followed.
Make sure everybody sees it. He needs to remember who in this family knows how to show appreciation.
I read the messages twice.
Victor had not purchased the iPad impulsively.
He had chosen it after hitting Ethan.
He had deliberately brought it in front of our son.
The cruelty was not an accident.
It was a statement.
“Did he know Ethan would be at the party?” Maya asked.
“Yes.”
“Did he know Ethan had not received a cake or birthday present from him?”
Greg looked at me.
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“He said Ethan needed to learn that complaining did not get rewarded.”
My vision blurred.
Rebecca slid a glass of water toward me.
I did not touch it.
“What did Liam do with the iPad?” I asked.
“Monica returned it this morning.”
“To Victor?”
“To the store. She saw the charge on the corporate card.”
Even the gift had not come from Victor.
Hale Meridian had paid for it.
The employees whose payroll was now uncertain had paid for it.
My father’s investment had paid for it.
Possibly Ethan’s education account had paid for it.
“Why are you talking now?” Maya asked.
Greg stared at his hands.
“Victor wants me to sign a statement saying I controlled the vendor accounts. He said if I refuse, he will tell the government the restaurant payments were my idea.”
“Were they?”
“No.”
“Did you know they were improper?”
“Eventually.”
“Then you may still face consequences.”
“I know.”
He took a folded packet from his jacket.
“These are copies of messages, invoices and account instructions. Monica kept them because she never trusted Victor.”
Maya accepted the packet.
Greg looked at me.
“I am sorry about Ethan.”
“Did you ever see Victor hit him before?”
“No.”
“Did you see him humiliate him?”
Greg hesitated.
At Christmas, Victor had made Ethan return a pair of sneakers Dad gave him because he called them “wasteful.”
At a family dinner, he had mocked Ethan for crying after their dog died.
During a basketball game, he had forced Ethan to sit alone in the car because he missed two free throws.
Greg remembered each incident.
So did I.
I had explained every one of them away.
Victor was stressed.
Victor wanted Ethan to be strong.
Victor did not express emotions well.
Each excuse had become a brick in the wall that kept Ethan trapped.
After Greg left, Maya turned to me.
“You should prepare for Victor to attack your credibility.”
“He already thinks everyone will believe him.”
“Many people may. He is successful, polished and practiced.”
“He hit a child.”
“And he will call it discipline. He stole money and will call it temporary borrowing. He forged signatures and will call it administrative convenience.”
Maya leaned forward.
“Our job is not to make him admit what he is. Our job is to prove what he did.”
That afternoon, Victor posted a statement online.
It appeared first on Hale Meridian’s company page and was quickly shared by local business accounts.
Hale Meridian Properties is currently facing a vindictive financial action initiated by a private investor following an unrelated family disagreement. Our projects remain strong, our team remains committed, and we will not allow personal retaliation to threaten the livelihoods of hardworking Colorado families.
He had transformed himself into a victim within forty-eight hours.
The comments began immediately.
People called Dad an arrogant billionaire.
They accused him of destroying a self-made entrepreneur over a spoiled child.
Someone found my social media profile and posted a photograph of me leaving the hotel.
Rich daughter runs to Daddy after marital argument.
Another comment read:
Imagine ruining hundreds of jobs because a kid didn’t get cake.
I switched off my phone.
Ethan was doing schoolwork at the dining table.
He looked up.
“Is that about me?”
“No.”
“You turned your phone over.”
“It’s adult business.”
“People at school have phones.”
The realization chilled me.
Victor had not merely made the dispute public.
He had exposed Ethan to it.
Dad entered the room with Rebecca.
“We have another problem,” she said.
A regional bank had notified Hale Meridian that it was reviewing three loans after Victor’s statement confirmed an investor dispute.
Two subcontractors had filed payment demands.
Several employees had contacted my father directly.
“Can the company survive?” I asked.
“Parts of it can,” Dad said.
“And Victor?”
“That depends on what else we find.”
My phone rang again.
The caller was a reporter from the Denver Business Ledger.
I declined the call.
She immediately sent a text.
Mrs. Hale, I am preparing a report regarding Hale Meridian Properties, alleged diversion of investor funds and a possible federal inquiry. I would appreciate your response before publication.
A federal inquiry.
I looked at Dad.
“Did you contact the government?”
“No.”
Rebecca read the message.
“Banks are required to report suspicious transactions. One of them may have done so before the investment freeze.”
Victor believed my father had started the fire.
He had not realized the smoke had been visible for months.
That evening, another message arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Victor entering a private office building with two attorneys.
May you like
Beneath it were six words.
He is preparing to blame you.
