Chapter 18 - My Name on His LoanThe commercial lender was Granite Harbor Finance.
They cooperated quickly after Arthur notified them.
Their underwriting file showed:
Maya Vance, guarantor.
Estimated annual income:
$310,000.
Accurate.
Net worth:
$2.4 million.
House.
Retirement.
Investment accounts.
Accurate enough.
Greg had given them my tax returns.
How?
We filed jointly.
He had copies.
Then consent call.
Granite Harbor required every personal guarantor to join a verification call.
Someone joined as me.
Again.
Rebecca Sloan?
No.
She denied.
The audio was different.
A woman older.
Confident.
Arthur played it.
I recognized the voice.
Diane.
My mother in law.
Not perfectly disguised.
She spoke quietly.
Granite Harbor representative asked:
“Mrs. Vance, do you understand your personal assets may be at risk?”
Diane answered:
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
Diane had just told me she believed I authorized the trust.
Now she had impersonated me on a lender call.
Arthur confronted her attorney.
Diane changed her statement within twenty four hours.
She admitted.
Greg panicked because lender demanded confirmation while I was in Toronto.
He said:
“We just need Mom to say yes until Maya signs later.”
Diane refused at first.
Then Greg reminded her:
“If venue fails, your guarantee on GV Event Logistics is exposed.”
She agreed.
She pretended to be me for seven minutes.
No money funded under that guarantee.
Still fraud attempt.
Her cooperation with Greg was deeper than she admitted.
I felt oddly relieved.
Not because it was better.
Because the uncertainty ended.
Then Chloe’s reaction.
She did not know Diane impersonated me.
For once, she looked genuinely horrified.
“You did what?”
The Vance family alliance fractured completely.
Greg blamed Chloe.
Chloe blamed Diane.
Diane blamed fear.
None could blame ignorance anymore.
Then Granite Harbor found another inconsistency.
My signature on guarantee was produced from the same old refinance PDF as the house deed.
Digital match.
So one source document had been reused across multiple schemes.
Who created the template?
Greg’s desktop.
Folder:
MAYA SIGNATURES.
I felt physically sick hearing the name.
Inside were scans of:
My passport.
Driver’s license.
Signature samples.
Tax returns.
Bank statements.
Children’s birth certificates.
My life reduced to a toolkit.
Then one file:
MAYA CONSENT SCRIPT.
Questions lenders might ask.
Suggested answers.
Greg had written:
Keep responses short. Maya sounds calm and direct.
He knew my voice well enough to script someone impersonating me.
Then another folder.
MAYA HEALTH.
Medical insurance.
Emergency contacts.
Why?
A lender sometimes required life insurance for key guarantors.
Greg had requested quote for a $1.5 million policy on me connected to business guarantee.
Did a policy issue?
No.
Insurer required medical exam and direct consent.
Greg abandoned it.
Important.
No secret murder insurance.
Just another boundary he tried and failed to cross.
Then Arthur said:
“Some systems worked.”
The title attorney asked questions.
The commercial lender required verification.
The insurer required me personally.
Greg kept searching for weaker doors.
Eventually enough doors closed.
Then investigators asked me whether I wanted criminal referral.
Arthur explained:
Banks and lenders could report independently.
Forgery and identity misuse were not merely private divorce issues.
My answer:
“Yes.”
Not revenge.
May you like
Accountability.
Continue to the next part: Greg’s computer contains an organized folder of Maya’s identity documents and signature samples, showing the impersonation had become a system rather than a single desperate act.
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