A prescription for sleep medication I had used for three weeks six years earlier.
Normal grief transformed into a legal strategy.
One memo discussed the incapacity clause in my father’s trust.
Another outlined the requirements for temporary delegation of voting control.
Arthur intended to have me declared unable to manage complex financial decisions.
Not permanently.
Just long enough.
Long enough for him to push through a sale of Sterling Holdings to a private equity consortium called Blackmere Capital.
“What would he get?”
I asked.
Julian looked sick.
“Roughly eighty-six million dollars personally.”
My stomach turned.
“And me?”
“Your trust would receive proceeds, but under the proposed structure, its control rights would disappear after the sale.”
“He would sell my father’s company.”
“Yes.”
“Without my consent.”
“Yes.”
Miriam opened another document.
“There’s a proposed timeline.”
I looked.
October.
Only weeks away.
Then I saw a note in Arthur’s handwriting.
