Chapter 6 - Schedule D
Jessica’s second interview lasted nearly five hours.
Her lawyer was present.
She revised.
The first version had been protective.
She admitted.
She knew Schedule D transferred authority.
She knew I had not signed any such document after divorce.
She knew Brendan wanted a wet signature at dinner.
She did not know the full value of my trust.
She believed between $50 and $100 million.
Enough.
Then why participate?
“Brendan said Cassidy owed him.”
That phrase.
Owed.
For what?
“He said she humiliated him during divorce by keeping hidden assets.”
He had never asked.
Still.
“He said she built her life while he carried marriage.”
False.
We both worked.
Then Diane.
“She said Carter family money was probably made from Morrison Vale anyway.”
How?
No logic.
Northcross had invested after Morrison Vale crisis.
But Diane told story that my father acquired wealth by “feeding on struggling family companies.”
Therefore taking from me felt like restoration.
Moral laundering.
Then Jessica’s expected reward.
Not salary only.
Diane promised her ten percent of Morrison Strategic Family Partners after marriage to Brendan.
Jessica and Brendan planned to marry after our daughter’s birth and custody issues settled.
I heard this without surprise.
Then:
“Did Brendan discuss custody?”
Jessica hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He said once the baby was born, if he had enough money and a stable family home, he could seek equal custody.”
That is not wrong.
Fathers can seek.
Then:
“He said Cassidy would probably struggle financially.”
There.
Their worldview depended on me poor.
Then:
“If trust transfer worked, what did he say?”
“That he could show court he had resources and Cassidy didn’t.”
I almost admired insanity.
Steal my resources then use wealth against me.
Then Jessica said:
“I told him that sounded bad.”
Did she stop?
No.
She still typed.
Then water.
She admitted kicking bag intentionally to stop me reaching phone quickly.
“Why?”
“Diane told me not to let Cassidy call lawyer before signing.”
That transformed act.
Not just mockery.
Coercion.
Then Brendan physically shoved me.
Jessica said:
“Brendan said, ‘Sit down. You’re not leaving until papers are done.’”
The prompt line.
The dinner guests? There were two advisers. One was Diane's wealth manager, one old family friend. They heard. They had left after security. Police interviewed. One corroborated:
Brendan said something close to “sit down until this is handled.”
The other remembered “stop making drama.”
No perfect.
Then prosecutors considered unlawful restraint/coercion? I was not physically prevented long and door open, but aggression. They focused on fraud and battery.
Good.
Then Jessica’s plea possibility.
She had not submitted transfer herself.
She assisted document preparation, knew signature unauthorized at least by dinner, attempted coercive ratification, misused tablet.
Charges could include conspiracy to commit fraud, identity theft/forgery facilitation, attempted theft? We keep generic.
Her cooperation against Brendan and Diane substantial.
No deal yet.
Then Arthur came with corporate report.
“Brendan.”
“What?”
“Special committee recommends termination for cause.”
I closed eyes.
“Basis?”
“Misuse confidential shareholder information, undisclosed conflict with Harbor Ridge financing plan, attempted personal acquisition strategy involving company control, misuse of corporate resources, and conduct at dinner captured in witness statements.”
“Any fraud conclusion?”
“Company says evidence supports serious misconduct but defers criminal conclusions.”
Good.
“Board vote?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Do I vote?”
Northcross had shareholder rights, but employment termination was board matter.
“No.”
I smiled.
“Good.”
Then:
“Diane?”
“Her advisory contract can be terminated administratively under conduct clause. Independent chair recommends.”
“Do it through process.”
“Yes.”
Then Arthur hesitated.
“What?”
“Your identity.”
Employees are already asking why security referred to you as Ms. Carter and why Protocol Seven came from you.
“I know.”
“Board thinks we should disclose beneficial control internally.”
I hated.
Not because ashamed.
Privacy.
My father designed anonymity to separate owners from operating decisions.
But once gossip begins, secrecy becomes destabilizing.
“What exactly?”
“Northcross has confirmed Ms. Cassidy Carter is the controlling representative of the majority shareholder.”
No net worth.
No family drama.
“Okay.”
Then I realized.
Brendan would learn from company email that he had spent four years married to majority owner.
Maybe he already knew now.
But employees too.
Jessica too.
Diane.
I pressed hands against belly.
The baby moved.
“Arthur.”
“Yes?”
“What happens if Brendan is terminated before the baby is born?”
“Corporate employment and paternity separate.”
“I know.”
“His income changes. Support recalculated based actual and earning capacity. Family court handles.”
Good.
No weaponizing company to punish father.
Then:
“Do not touch his vested shares except what plan lawfully allows.”
“Of course.”
Brendan owned roughly 0.7 percent vested.
Unvested awards could be canceled for cause under plan.
Vested remain.
He was entitled to property he actually owned.
That distinction mattered.
Then the board voted.
Unanimous among independent directors.
Brendan terminated.
No severance beyond accrued amounts.
Unvested equity canceled under plan.
Vested shares retained subject normal restrictions.
Diane’s consulting relationship ended.
The company did not throw them out because I said.
It used evidence.
Then Brendan called Elise.
Not me.
“He says Cassidy engineered this.”
Elise asked whether I wanted response.
“No.”
Then:
“He wants to know if she’ll buy his vested shares.”
“No special transaction.”
Market/plan.
Fair.
Then internal announcement went out.
BRIEF NOTICE.
Morrison Vale Group confirmed that its majority shareholder is controlled by Cassidy Carter through Northcross affiliated entities.
Brendan Morrison terminated following independent governance review.
No mention dirty water.
No Jessica.
No pregnancy.
Within twelve minutes, I received 147 unread messages.
I turned phone off.
Then one came through emergency contacts.
From Diane.
I don’t care what paperwork says. That company belongs to my family.
I stared.
There it was.
Not money.
May you like
Identity.
The next chapter would explain why Diane believed a company could belong to a bloodline long after the bloodline stopped owning it.
