Efficient. Clean. Cruel only because he found cruelty more convenient than honesty.
"I have notarized a great many signatures in my life," the old man said. "Contracts. Acquisitions. Wills. Separations. Some difficult, some ordinary. I don't believe I've ever seen a man so eager to reduce a marriage to a marketing decision."
Derek's jaw tightened. "You're here to witness signatures. Not lecture me."
"And yet," the old man said quietly, "I witnessed a great deal more than signatures this morning."
"Someone should call legal," Vanessa said, her voice thin. "This is getting strange."
Derek didn't look away from him. "What's your name again?"
The old man reached into his jacket, pulled out a worn leather case, and set an ID card on the table without a word.
Derek leaned forward. So did Vanessa.
I didn't need to look. I already knew what it said.
Walter Kingsley. Chairman, Kingsley Holdings.
My grandfather.
