Nathaniel Vale did not look angry.
That made it worse.
“You must be Julian Mercer,” he said evenly. “The man who attempted to discard my sister as if she were a drafting error.”
Julian felt something unfamiliar in his chest—uncertainty. “There’s been a misunderstanding. Camille’s last name is Rivera.”
“Rivera is our mother’s name,” Camille said, stepping forward now, her posture altered in a way that was subtle but seismic. “My full name is Camille Vale-Rivera. I chose to live quietly. I chose to see whether anyone would value me without the weight of a surname.”
Julian stared at her as though she had begun speaking another language.
Nathaniel’s attorneys began placing documents across the glass table where Julian had once displayed architectural awards.
“Mr. Mercer,” one of them began calmly, “in drafting your prenuptial agreement, you swore under oath that your disclosed assets were complete and accurate. However, our forensic accountants have identified three offshore holding accounts, a concealed line of credit tied to a private equity gamble, and a personal liability exposure of approximately twelve-point-four million dollars.”
Julian’s face drained of color. “That’s impossible.”
Nathaniel gave a thin smile. “It’s not impossible when one of the subsidiaries holding your debt was quietly acquired by Vale Consortium this afternoon.”
