Daniel remembered signing.
He had barely understood half the document then.
Maya had.
She always did.
Andre continued:
“There’s a protective clause.”
“What?”
“Any attempt by a guardian’s spouse to obtain personal benefit from trust assets triggers mandatory independent review.”
Daniel stared.
“So Simone’s requests—”
“Would have automatically increased scrutiny.”
“She never had a realistic path to simply take the money.”
“No.”
Daniel leaned back.
“Then why do all this?”
Andre answered carefully.
“People in financial distress often believe access is easier than it is.”
“She may have assumed marriage created rights it doesn’t.”
“Or she may have believed you would eventually consent.”
Daniel thought about the wedding binder.
Stacks of papers.
Vendor forms.
Insurance.
Travel documents.
Simone saying:
You never read anything I put in front of you.
He stood.
“Wait.”
Andre watched as Daniel retrieved a thick white binder from the office.
He placed it on the counter.
Wedding paperwork.
Most signed.
Some blank.
They went page by page.
Hotel.
Florist.
Transportation.
Photographer.
Then near the back:
A personal financial planning questionnaire.
Daniel remembered seeing it.
He had signed the final page because Simone said their financial adviser needed it before marriage.
Attached behind it was something else.
A limited authorization.
Different heading.
Dense language.
His signature appeared at the bottom.
This one was real.
Daniel stared.
“I signed this.”
Andre read.
His face hardened.
“It’s not enough to change the trust.”
“But it gives Simone permission to communicate with certain advisers on your behalf.”
Daniel felt sick.
“She buried it.”
Andre nodded.
“She may have used this as supporting authority when contacting firms.”
“Is that illegal?”
“Depends on how she represented it.”
Daniel sat.
He had signed without reading.
Not because Simone held a gun.
Because he trusted her.
That fact hurt more than the forged document.
Andre said:
“Daniel.”
He looked up.
“You made a mistake.”
“I handed her access.”
“You signed a limited form.”
“I didn’t read it.”
“Yes.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“No.”