July's heartbreak

Deceit and Exposed Secrets

Peter pushed past me into the restaurant, his eyes sweeping over the renovations. "Nice place. Much better than I expected." He turned to face me, his eyes hard. "I'm here because we need to talk about your grandmother's property."

"There's nothing to talk about. It's my property."

"Actually..." Peter's lawyer opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. "According to these documents, it's our property. Signed by you two years ago, right after your grandmother's death."

My hands shook as she took the papers. My signature was there, clear as day, but I didn't remember signing anything like this.

"I never signed this," I said.

"You did," Peter replied coolly. "You were very upset after your grandmother died. Barely knew what you were signing. But legally, it doesn't matter. These papers are valid. I own half this restaurant."

John stepped forward, his face thunderous. "Get out."

Peter's eyes slid to John, and something ugly flickered across his face. "Who's this? Your new boyfriend?" He laughed. "Moving fast, July. I always knew you were desperate."

"Don't talk to her like that," John growled.

"Or what?" Peter stepped closer, his chin raised. "You'll hit me? Go ahead. I have lawyers. Lots of lawyers, and when this is over, I'll own this whole building, not just half of it."

I felt like I was going to be sick. The papers looked real. My signature looked real, but I didn't remember. Those days after my grandmother's death were a blur of grief and tears.

Had Peter really tricked me into signing away half my dream?

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice hollow.

Peter's smile widened. "Come back to New York with me. Be my wife, like we planned, and I'll sign my half of the restaurant over to you. Clean and simple."

"And if I say no?"

Peter shrugged. "Then I tear this place down and build a parking lot. Your choice."

He dropped his business card on the counter and walked out, his lawyer following behind.

I stared at the papers in my hands, tears streaming down my face. Everything I had worked for, everything my grandmother had built. It was all going to disappear because I had been too stupid and sad to read what I was signing.

"July." John's voice was tight. "Let me see those papers."

I handed them over, too broken to argue.

John studied them carefully, his jaw clenched. After a long moment, he looked up.

"These signatures are forged," he said flatly. "You didn't sign these. Peter faked them."

Hope flickered in my chest. "How do you know?"

"Because I have access to the best document analysts in the country." John's gray eyes met hers. "I can prove these are fake. I can make Peter's case disappear."

I frowned. "How? You're a landlord. How would you have access to—"

John's face went carefully blank, And my blood ran cold.

"John," I said slowly. "Who are you? Really?"

John was silent for a long, horrible moment.

Then he said the words that shattered everything.

"My name is John Karma. My father left me Karma Real Estate when he died. I'm worth two billion dollars."

My mouth fell open.

"And there's something else," John continued, his voice heavy with guilt. "My grandmother Katherine made me promise to protect this restaurant before she would tell me something about my father's death. I've been looking for answers my whole life. This restaurant... your grandmother... they are connected to everything."

I stepped back, my heart breaking all over again.

Another man. Another secret. Another lie.

"Get out," I whispered.

"July, please—"

"Get out!" I screamed.

John flinched like I had slapped him. He didn't argue. He just looked at me with those storm-cloud eyes, full of pain and regret, and walked out the door.

I sank to the floor, sobbing.

I had trusted him. I had kissed him. I was ready to give him everything and he had been lying to me since the moment we met.

I didn't leave the restaurant for three days.

I lay on my mattress and stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about John's lips on my neck or Peter's cruel smile or the papers that could destroy everything.

My phone buzzed constantly. John. George. Numbers I didn't recognize. I ignored them all.

On the fourth day, someone knocked on the door.

I didn't move.

The knock came again, louder this time.

"Go away!" I shouted.

"Child, if you don't open this door, I'm going to break it down, and these old bones don't break things like they used to."

I sat up. The voice was unfamiliar, old, sharp and demanding.

I dragged herself to the door and opened it.

A tiny woman stood on the steps. She had silver locs that fell to her shoulders, skin like creased silk, and bright eyes that seemed to see straight through my soul.

"Finally," the woman said. "I thought you were going to make me stand out here all day."

"Who are you?"

The woman pushed past me into the restaurant, looking around with approval. "You've done good work here. Your grandmother would be proud."

My heart clenched. "You knew my grandmother?"

"Knew her?" The woman turned, her eyes soft. "She was my best friend for fifty-two years. I'm Katherine Joseph. And it's time you and I had a talk."

Katherine. John's grandmother. The one who made him promise to protect this restaurant.

My guard went up immediately. "If you are here to make excuses for John—"

"I'm here to tell you the truth," Katherine interrupted. "The whole truth. Something I should have told you two years ago, when your grandmother died." She sat down on an overturned crate and patted the spot beside her. "Sit, child. This is going to take a while."

I sat, my heart pounding.

Katherine was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then she began to speak.

"Your grandmother was the bravest woman I ever knew. She built this restaurant with her bare hands, back when women didn't do things like that. She fed this whole neighborhood, she gave people jobs, she made this street into a community."

I nodded. I knew all these.

"But there were men who wanted this land," Katherine continued. "Rich men. Powerful men. Thirty years ago, a man named Richard Songs came to your grandmother and offered to buy the restaurant. He wanted to tear it down and build a hotel."

My blood went cold. "Songs? Like Peter Songs?"

"Richard is Peter's father." Katherine's eyes hardened. "Your grandmother refused to sell. She refused a hundred times. Richard offered more money, made threats, but she wouldn't budge. This place was her heart."

"What happened?"

Katherine's voice dropped to a whisper. "Richard poisoned her."

I couldn't breathe. "What?"

"Slowly. Over many months. He put something in her food that made her heart weak. When she finally died, everyone thought it was natural. A heart attack, the doctors said. But I knew better." Katherine's eyes filled with tears. "I knew your grandmother, her heart was the strongest thing about her."

My hands were shaking. "How do you know it was Richard?"

"Because I found evidence. Letters. Records. Richard was careful, but not careful enough." Katherine wiped her eyes. "I've been trying to prove what he did for two years, but Richard is powerful. He has lawyers and connections and money. Every time I get close, the evidence disappears."

My mind was spinning. My grandmother didn't die naturally, she was murdered by Peter's father.

"There's more," Katherine said quietly.

"More?"