I held the commitment form in both hands.
My signature was at the bottom.
Close enough to fool someone who didn’t know me.
Not close enough to fool me.
“Dad.”
He looked around the ballroom.
“Hannah, lower your voice.”
I almost laughed.
“You used my company’s name to raise money.”
“We were going to discuss it.”
“No.”
I held up the paper.
“You were going to let people believe I had already agreed.”
Mom stepped closer.
“Your father was only trying to help the family business.”
“By pretending Northstar backed it?”
Dad’s face hardened.
“You’re making this sound criminal.”
Northstar’s attorney, Mark Ellis, appeared beside me.
He had come straight from the office after my call.
He took one look at the document.
Then at Dad.
“Who prepared this?”
Dad didn’t answer.
Mark repeated himself.
“Mr. Reed, who prepared the form bearing Hannah’s signature?”
Mom whispered,
“Do we really need lawyers at an anniversary party?”
Mark looked at her.
“Your guests have been asked to invest money based on a partnership that does not exist.”
That silenced her.
Olivia stood beside me.
She looked sick.
“How many people signed?”
Dad finally spoke.
“Six.”
My stomach tightened.
“For how much?”
He looked away.
“Dad.”
“About two million.”
Olivia gasped.
Mom grabbed his arm.
“You told me they were only expressions of interest.”
“They are.”
Mark took the forms from Olivia.
“These contain wire instructions.”
Dad’s face changed.
That was the moment I realized even Mom hadn’t known everything.
I looked at him.
“Were you planning to accept their money tonight?”
“No.”
Mark pointed to a deadline printed on the form.
“Funds due Monday.”
It was Saturday.
Dad’s entire plan had depended on people believing Northstar was attached to Reed Capital before anyone had time to verify it.
Then one of the guests approached.
A silver-haired man I recognized from the business pages.
“Excuse me.”
Dad immediately straightened.
“Richard, this is a misunderstanding.”
The man ignored him and looked at me.
“Are you saying Northstar has no relationship with Reed Capital?”
“None.”
He slowly removed a folded copy of the brochure from his jacket.
“Your father told me you personally approved the venture.”
I looked at Dad.
He said nothing.
Richard’s expression hardened.
“I committed six hundred thousand dollars.”
Another couple nearby turned toward us.
Then another guest.
Whispers spread across the ballroom.
Dad grabbed my arm.
“Come outside.”
I pulled free.
“Don’t touch me.”
His face flashed with anger.
“You’re humiliating us.”
I stared at him.
“You sent me a message this morning telling me I wasn’t good enough to attend.”
The ballroom went quiet.
Mom whispered,
“Hannah…”
“No.”
I looked at both of them.
“You didn’t want your ‘computer-work daughter’ here until you saw me on television.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this.”
Because suddenly I understood why he had hidden the brochures from me.
He hadn’t expected me to be there.
My exclusion had not merely been snobbery.
It had been convenient.
Mark pulled me aside.
“There’s another issue.”
“What?”
He showed me his phone.
Reed Capital’s website had been updated that morning.
My photograph was on it.
The same professional headshot Northstar used.
Underneath were the words:
Hannah Reed — Technology & Healthcare Advisory Partner
I felt cold.
“I’ve never advised Reed Capital.”
“I know.”
Olivia looked over my shoulder.
“Oh my God.”
Dad saw the screen.
“Hannah, it was temporary.”
I stared at him.
“You put me on your company website?”
“You’re my daughter.”
“That is not authorization.”
Then Olivia said quietly,
“Dad… did you use my husband too?”
Everyone turned toward her.
She pulled out another brochure.
On the inside was a list of “medical industry advisers.”
Her husband, Dr. Nathan Cole, was named.
Olivia’s face drained of color.
“Nathan never agreed to this.”
Dad suddenly looked trapped.
Mom stared at him.
“George?”
He snapped,
“I needed credibility.”
The words came out before he could stop them.
Silence.
Mark looked at me.
“There it is.”
Dad glared at him.
Then at me.
“You have no idea what pressure I’m under.”
“What pressure?”
For the first time, something cracked in his expression.
Reed Capital was in trouble.
Not mildly.
Badly.
Two real-estate developments had stalled.
A lender had demanded additional collateral.
Several investors were preparing to pull out.
Dad needed new money quickly.
Then Northstar’s partnership announcement hit the news.
And apparently, he saw my success as a lifeline.
Mom sat down.
“You told me the company was doing well.”
“It will be.”
“How much do you owe?”
He didn’t answer.
Olivia whispered,
“Dad.”
Finally:
“Almost four million.”
Mom covered her mouth.
I stared at him.
“So this entire party…”
He looked around the ballroom.
The wealthy guests.
The brochures.
The private investment table.
The carefully chosen crowd.
It wasn’t only an anniversary celebration.
It was a fundraising event.
And my parents had deliberately kept me away because I might recognize the lie.
Mom looked at Dad with tears in her eyes.
“You knew Hannah couldn’t be here.”
He said nothing.
That was answer enough.
I felt something inside me go completely still.
The morning text suddenly sounded different.
Only high-society guests will be there.
It had never been about embarrassment.
It was about control.
Dad needed a room full of people who believed his story.
And the one person who could immediately expose it had been told to stay home.
Then Mark’s phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He ended the call and looked at me.
“Northstar’s finance team found a payment.”
My stomach tightened.
“What payment?”
“Reed Capital received seventy-five thousand dollars last month from a consulting account.”
Dad went pale.
I stared at him.
“Whose consulting account?”
Mark turned the phone toward me.
The account name looked familiar.
Not mine.
Olivia’s.
She leaned closer.
Then froze.
“That’s Nathan’s old medical consulting LLC.”
Her husband’s company.
A company he had stopped using two years earlier.
Olivia looked at Dad.
“You had access to that account?”
He didn’t answer.
She stepped backward.
“Dad?”
Mom whispered,
“George, what did you do?”
Dad suddenly grabbed his jacket.
“I’m not discussing this here.”
He turned toward the ballroom doors.
But Richard, the investor, stepped into his path.
“No.”
Dad stopped.
Richard held up his signed commitment form.
“You’re going to explain why you asked me for six hundred thousand dollars using people’s names without permission.”
Dad’s face went white.
Then Olivia’s phone rang.
Nathan.
She answered.
Listened.
And slowly sat down.
When she looked up, she was crying.
“Hannah…”
“What?”
“Nathan just checked the account.”
Her voice shook.
“That seventy-five thousand wasn’t the only transfer.”
Dad closed his eyes.
And that was when I understood.
He hadn’t merely borrowed my reputation.
He had been using both daughters’ families to keep Reed Capital alive.
To Be Continued…
