Julian’s face went through three expressions in about four seconds.
Confusion.
Recognition.
Fear.
He reached for the folder.
Darcy stepped forward before his hand got close.
“I wouldn’t,” she said quietly.
Eleanor looked between us.
“What is this?
Julian, what is she holding?”
Julian didn’t answer her.
He was staring at me.
“Sloan.” His voice had dropped completely.
“We can talk about this.”
“We are talking,” I said.
“This is the conversation.”
Darcy set the top document on the table and turned it to face him.
The property deed.
The holding company registration.
My name.
Only my name.
Eleanor leaned over to look.
Then she straightened up slowly.
“You told me this house was yours,” she said to Julian.
He said nothing.
“Julian.” Her voice had changed.
“You told me we had leverage.”
That word stopped everything.
Leverage.
I looked at Eleanor.
“What exactly did he tell you?”
She pressed her lips together.
But something had shifted in her expression — not guilt, not quite.
More like the look of someone who had just realized they were standing on the wrong side of a door that was about to close.
Darcy opened her notepad.
“Mrs.
Eleanor,” she said calmly, “I think you should answer that question.”
Eleanor glanced at Julian.
Julian looked at the floor.
And that was the moment I understood — this wasn’t just about the money.
Eleanor knew something.
Something Julian had told her.
Something they had planned together.
The question was how much.
—
What Julian and Eleanor had been planning behind Sloan’s back was worse than she imagined.