Chapter 11 - Paige’s Three Employers
Paige worked for me.
My mother.
And Bell.
Three paychecks.
Three stories.
No loyalty.
At least that was cleaner.
She admitted everything after prosecutors offered limited consideration.
Susan hired her to monitor my company.
Bell paid her to copy transaction data.
Chris paid her for internal valuation reports.
Paige sold each person a different reason.
To Mom:
Protect Tracy from hidden trust exposure.
To Bell:
Assist legitimate trustee administration.
To Chris:
Help Nicole prove family ownership.
To me?
She played the efficient assistant.
Until she stole reimbursement money and gave me a reason to fire her.
“Did you want to be fired?”
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because Bell was getting dangerous.”
She had begun realizing he was manipulating transactions to preserve control long after he should have stepped aside.
She wanted out.
But instead of warning me, she stole small amounts knowing I would terminate her without deeper questions.
Again, cowardice disguised as strategy.
Then came the recordings prosecutors had.
Mom telling Paige:
Change the internal classification so Hollow Pine appears trust-adjacent.
My mother closed her eyes.
She explained.
She wanted Bell to believe Hollow Pine qualified for trust reimbursement so he would release funds into my company.
“Without telling Tracy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To restore money Arthur took years ago.”
Prosecutors did not care about maternal intention.
False records were false records.
Mom had crossed a line while telling herself she was correcting an older wrong.
That pattern now seemed hereditary.
Nicole whispered:
“Are you going to jail?”
Mom looked at her.
For once, no answer.
Then investigators turned toward me.
They needed my cooperation.
Every internal file.
Every acquisition.
Every email.
Doing so could expose my company to civil suits.
Maybe worse.
Dad immediately said:
“Don't.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Protect the business.”
There it was.
The old instinct.
Protect the outcome.
Manage truth.
I thought about Hollow Pine.
Eight years.
Every missed holiday.
Every tenant call at 2 a.m.
Every paycheck reinvested.
If the foundation contained fraud, I needed to know.
“Give them everything.”
Dad closed his eyes.
Mom started crying.
Nicole watched me.
“Even if it destroys your company?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if it can only survive while I avoid the truth, it isn't mine.”
That sentence scared me after I said it.
Because I meant it.
Forensic review began.
And two weeks later, Maya called me at 1:13 a.m.
“We have the results.”
“How bad?”
“Your twelve properties are clean.”
I sat down.
“All?”
“Your acquisitions were legitimate.”
Relief nearly knocked me unconscious.
Then:
“But there’s a thirteenth property.”
I frowned.
“I don't own thirteen.”
“According to the original Manning trust, you do.”
She sent me the deed.
Property:
Blackwater Ridge.
Owner:
Tracy Manning.
Transfer date:
The day I turned eighteen.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
I had never seen it.
May you like
And unlike Nicole’s forged Hollow Pine document—
this signature was genuine.
