Chapter 11 #2
"These are the real authentication records," Gabe said, pointing to his documents.
"Note the watermark on the paper—Stone Bridge custom stock.
Note the authentication codes in accordance with our new protocol.
And here—" he pointed to Emery's signature, "—the real signature has a distinctive loop in the 'y' that the forgeries are missing. "
Sarah stared at the documents, her professional composure cracking. “I don’t understand. Why would someone set me up like this?”
“Correction. Someone set up Emery. You’re just the delivery person,” Devon said.
The doorbell rang, and moments later, Sandy appeared in the family room, still in uniform, her expression all business.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” she asked.
Devon gestured to the documents spread across the coffee table.
"Someone created forged authentication records with Emery's signature, then sent them to Sarah Martinez, claiming Emery was fabricating provenance for Stone Bridge wines.
They used a fake email account with Gabe's name to make it look like he was the whistleblower. "
Sandy pulled on gloves and began examining the documents without touching them directly. "Who had access to Emery's signature? Her authentication stamp?"
“Me, Bryson, Devon, and Walter," Gabe said. "We keep records in a shared filing system. The authentication records are duplicated. I always have a copy in the production facility, and Walter keeps a copy in the home office.”
“I moved my stamp,” Emery said quietly. “It’s locked in a cabinet. I did that after the break-in.”
"Smart," Sandy said. "But someone could have copied it before then."
“These documents were in the guesthouse the night of the break-in,” Devon said.
Sandy turned to Sarah. "I'm going to need those emails. All of them. And any other communication you’ve had with this supposed source."
"Of course." Sarah was already forwarding everything to Sandy's email. "I should have verified the source more thoroughly. I just—the documentation looked legitimate. Professional. And the source claimed to have worked closely with Ms. Tate."
"How and when did they contact you initially?" Sandy asked.
Sarah scrolled through her emails. "Three days ago. Said they had information about fraud at Stone Bridge Winery, that they couldn't stay silent anymore after watching authentication records being fabricated. They sent samples of the forged documents to prove they had access."
"And you didn't think to call us first?" Walter's voice was calm but carried an edge.
"I was trying to protect my source and get the full story before approaching you," Sarah admitted. "In hindsight, that was a mistake."
"In hindsight, you almost destroyed an innocent woman's reputation," Bryson said.
Sandy held up a hand. "We'll sort this out. Sarah, I'm going to need you to forward any future communications from this person directly to me. Don't respond, don't engage, just forward."
"What if they don't reach out again?" Sarah asked.
"They will," Sandy said grimly. "Because when you don't publish those forged documents, they're going to want to know why. That's when we catch them."
"Are you going to finish the interview?" Brea asked.
Sarah looked at Emery, genuine regret in her expression. "If you're willing. We can edit out the section on the forged documents and keep everything else. You handled yourself beautifully before that ambush."
Emery was quiet for a long moment, looking down at the forged documents that bore her signature but not her work. When she looked up, her jaw was set, her spine straightening as she squared her shoulders.
"Yes. Let's finish it. But I want to say something first, on the record."
"Okay," Sarah said slowly.
"Someone is actively trying to destroy my reputation and career.
This isn't paranoia or defensiveness—it's fact.
Someone created forged documents, used a fake email to impersonate a Stone Bridge Winery employee, and attempted to use a respected journalist to spread lies about my work.
" Emery's voice rang steady and strong. "I don't know who's doing this or why.
But I'm not running. I'm not hiding. And I'm not letting fear stop me from doing the work I love. "
"That's good," Sarah said, already making notes. "That's really good. Can I use that?"
"Please do." Emery glanced toward Devon.
He smiled. What else could he do? She was the total package, and she’d stolen his heart.
They reset the interview, with Sarah asking follow-up questions about Stone Bridge's vision for the premium market and Emery's goals for the authentication program.
The earlier sections had been good, but this final portion was powerful—Emery speaking with the kind of conviction that came from having survived an attack and deciding to fight back.
When it finally ended, Sarah packed up her equipment, promising to send a link to the video for review before final production and to keep Sandy updated on any contact from the fake source.
After she left, the family room emptied quickly—Walter and Brea heading to the kitchen to start dinner preparations, Bryson and Riley disappearing toward the vineyard for a walk, Gabe returning to his office to document everything for the investigation.
Devon and Emery were left alone in the quiet family room, surrounded by the evidence of someone's attempt to destroy her.
"I'm okay," Emery said before he could ask. "Shaken, but okay."
"You were incredible." Devon closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. "The way you handled that, the way you stood up and said you weren't running—"
"I didn't have a choice." Her voice muffled against his chest. "Running hasn't worked. Hiding hasn't worked. Fighting back is all I have left."
"You have me." Devon pulled back enough to cup her face in his hands. "You have this family. You have people who believe you and will fight with you."
"I know." Tears gathered in her eyes but didn't fall. "That's the only reason I was able to do it. Knowing I wasn't alone."
He kissed her then, soft and careful—more promise than passion. When they pulled apart, Emery rested her forehead against his.
"Whoever's doing this," she said quietly, "they're not going to stop. The break-in, the articles, now this—it's escalating."
"I know." Devon felt cold certainty settle in his gut. "But we're going to find out who it is. And when we do, they're going to regret ever targeting you."
"Very protective caveman of you."
"I'm serious."
"So am I." She looked up at him, and despite everything, there was a hint of humor in her expression. "But I appreciate the sentiment."
They stood together in the fading afternoon light, holding each other while the evidence of someone's malice lay scattered across the coffee table. Somewhere out there, someone was watching, waiting, planning their next move.
But for now, in this moment, they had each other.
And that would have to be enough.