My Fake Death Was The Punchline To His Cruel Joke Chapter 23
That night, a new wave of negative press hit the internet.
“WAS ELENA ORTIZ’S DESIGN STUDIO BUILT ON THE FORTUNE OF EX-FIANCÉ BENNETT SHAW?”
The article included a photo of the old business plan.
Under the title of co-founder, Bennett Shaw’s signature was clear as day.
The opposing lawyers echoed Camille’s long-forgotten taunt.
[Mr. Shaw transferred his shares in that studio to Ms. Mercer long ago. Ms. Ortiz’s current success is not as self-made as she claims.]
Leo was so furious he slammed his phone on the table.
“They’re trying to use a plan for a company that never existed to lay claim to the company you actually built.”
I looked at the photo and laughed.
The first time I saw that business plan, I thought it was Bennett offering me a future.
Later, I learned it was just a prop for test number one hundred.
Now, they were dusting it off again, hoping to fool the world one last time.
I opened the state design association’s website.
The award-winning project had only one designer listed.
Mara Elena Ortiz.
Then I pulled up every legal document from the studio’s incorporation, every contract for every small job, every email chasing payment, and the complete public timeline for the women’s shelter, from first sketch to final inspection.
All of it had happened after I moved to Denver.
Not a single page bore Bennett Shaw’s name.
I forwarded the entire file to my lawyer with a single instruction:
“Tell them to present their proof of ownership in court.”
Three days later, the opposing firm issued a retraction.
Because all they had was a hollow business plan signed by a man who was now a convicted felon.
And a plan has never been equity.