Chapter 4 - The Forged Signature
At noon the next day, the hospital room door swung open, and Marcus stepped inside, blocking the frame.
“Boss. Richard is here. And he brought a judge,” Marcus said, his hand resting casually near the concealed weapon under his jacket.
Lucas stood up, gently placing Emma’s sleeping hand back on the bed. He walked out into the corridor, closing the door behind him.
Standing near the nurses' station was Richard, holding the same manila folder from the night before, accompanied by Judge Harrison—a man whose election campaigns were heavily funded by the Bennett corporate empire.
“Lucas,” Richard said, adopting a tone of deep, fabricated sorrow. “I am so sorry to do this here. But the doctors say Emma’s condition is critical and mentally compromising. As the family attorney, I have an obligation to protect the Bennett heir. I’m executing the guardianship contingency.”
Judge Harrison cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable under Lucas’s lethal stare. “Mr. Bennett, I have reviewed the documents. They are legally binding. In the event of your wife’s incapacitation, full medical and legal guardianship of the unborn child transfers to your mother, Margaret Bennett. And given your current... emotional state, Richard has filed for temporary medical proxy over your wife.”
They were trying to take control of Emma’s medical care. If they got that, they could finish the job they started.
Lucas let out a dark, humorless laugh that echoed down the quiet hallway.
“You’re a bold man, Richard,” Lucas said, stepping slowly toward his cousin. “To walk into my hospital, with a forged document, and threaten my family.”
“It’s not forged, Lucas,” Richard said smoothly. “You signed it last week at the board meeting. You just didn't read the fine print.”
Richard held up the document. At the bottom, in black ink, was Lucas’s signature. Lucas M. Bennett.
It looked perfect. The aggressive slant of the L, the sharp cross of the T’s. To any handwriting expert on Margaret’s payroll, it would pass.
But Lucas smiled. It was a cold, terrifying smile that made Richard take a subconscious step backward.
“You’re right, Richard. It looks exactly like my signature,” Lucas said, leaning in close. “But you forgot one tiny, insignificant detail. A detail only my wife knows.”
Richard frowned, glancing at the paper.
“I am left-handed, Richard,” Lucas whispered. “I sign all my public corporate documents with my right hand, because my grandfather forced me to learn when I was a kid. It’s sloppy, but it’s legal. But when I sign personal documents—wills, family trusts, anything concerning my actual family—I use my left hand. The pen pressure is entirely different. The slant is inverted. My personal lawyers have it on file. That signature is a right-handed corporate forgery.”
Richard’s face drained of color.
Lucas turned to the judge. “Judge Harrison, if you sign that order, you will be participating in a federal conspiracy to commit medical fraud and attempted murder. My head of security has already forwarded evidence of Richard’s wire transfers to the FBI. I suggest you walk away while you still have a pension.”
The judge looked at Richard in absolute panic, turned on his heel, and fast-walked toward the elevators without a single word.
Richard was left standing alone.
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“Tell my mother,” Lucas said, his voice dripping with venom, “that I am coming for her.”
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