Chapter 2
Marcus called me seventeen times before midnight.
I didn't answer once.
I was sitting on the edge of Lily's bed, watching her sleep.
Her little hand was wrapped around my finger.
Noah was in the room next door, curled beneath his favorite blue blanket.
They had both cried themselves to sleep.
And I hated Marcus for that more than anything he'd done to me.
Not because he'd stopped loving me.
Not even because he'd cheated.
But because he'd humiliated their mother in front of strangers and made our children believe their family was disposable.
My phone vibrated again.
MARCUS.
I turned it facedown.
Then a message appeared.
"You changed the locks?"
I stared at it.
Another message.
"Security won't let me inside."
Then another.
"Nia, what the hell did you do?"
I took a slow breath.
The answer wasn't complicated.
Three weeks earlier, I'd discovered that Marcus had authorized questionable transfers from our joint business account into a company called V Holdings.
At first, I thought it was a legitimate vendor.
Then I looked closer.
The company had been registered eight months earlier.
Its managing member was Vanessa Reynolds.
Marcus's mistress.
The transfers totaled more than four hundred thousand dollars.
Money that had helped purchase Vanessa's luxury apartment.
Money that had paid for her Mercedes.
Money that had funded the extravagant baby shower she'd posted online.
And some of that money had come from capital I inherited from my father.
I'd confronted Marcus privately.
He'd laughed.
"You don't understand corporate accounting, Nia."
That was his first mistake.
Before marrying Marcus, I'd worked as a financial analyst.
I understood corporate accounting very well.
His second mistake was believing that because I'd spent years raising our children, I'd forgotten how to protect myself.
I hadn't.
I simply hadn't expected to need those skills against my own husband.
My attorney, Patricia Greene, had helped me document the transfers.
We'd preserved account statements.
Corporate records.
Emails.
And the messages Marcus accidentally left open on our shared tablet.
Then Patricia advised me to file for divorce and seek emergency relief.
I did.
The temporary court order granted me exclusive use of our marital residence pending further proceedings.
It didn't erase Marcus's property rights.
But it meant he couldn't simply walk inside and intimidate me while the court reviewed the situation.
I'd arranged lawful service of the documents.
And I'd instructed our security staff to follow the order.
Now Marcus was learning what that meant.
My phone rang again.
This time, I answered.
"Hello, Marcus."
His voice exploded through the speaker.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
I stepped into the hallway.
Lowered my voice.
"Our children are sleeping."
"I don't care!"
My stomach tightened.
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The truth.
He didn't care.
Not enough to ask whether they were okay.
Not enough to wonder how Lily had reacted.
Not enough to check whether Noah was frightened.
He only cared about losing control.
"Did you receive the documents?" I asked.
"Your lawyer had me served at my own gate!"
"Then you have your answer."
He laughed bitterly.
"You think you can steal my house?"
I leaned against the wall.
"Read the deed, Marcus."
Silence.
Then he said, "What?"
"The deed."
He breathed heavily.
"I know whose house it is."
"Do you?"
He didn't answer.
Our estate had been purchased six years earlier.
Marcus liked telling people he'd bought it after closing a major business deal.
But the truth was more complicated.
My father had left me a substantial inheritance.
I'd used part of it toward the purchase.
The house was titled in both our names, but we'd also signed documents preserving a record of my separate contribution.
Marcus had forgotten those documents existed.
Or perhaps he'd simply assumed they wouldn't matter.
"You're not taking everything from me," he snapped.
I felt my anger rise.
"Marcus, you stood in front of our children and announced that your mistress was giving you a better family."
He went quiet.
I continued.
"You don't get to come home tonight and pretend nothing happened."
He inhaled sharply.
"Vanessa is pregnant."
"I heard you the first time."
"She needs somewhere to stay."
I almost laughed.
"Then take her to the apartment you bought with money from our business."
Silence.
A long, terrible silence.
Then he whispered, "What did you say?"
I closed my eyes.
"I know about V Holdings."
His breathing changed.
"Nia."
"I know about the transfers."
He didn't speak.
"And I know Vanessa owns the company."
His voice dropped.
"You've been going through my records?"
"Our records, Marcus."
He began shouting again.
But I ended the call.
I had nothing left to discuss without attorneys.
The next morning, Patricia arrived at eight.
I was sitting at the kitchen table when she entered.
She looked at my face.
"Did you sleep?"
I shook my head.
"A little."
She sat across from me.
"How are the children?"
My eyes filled.
"Confused."
Patricia nodded.
"That's understandable."
I looked down.
"Noah asked if Daddy loved him anymore."
Her expression softened.
I swallowed.
"What am I supposed to tell him?"
"The truth, in a way he can understand. His father's choices are not his fault."
I nodded.
Then Patricia opened her folder.
"We need to discuss the business accounts."
My stomach tightened.
"What happened?"
"Marcus's attorney contacted me this morning."
I sat straighter.
"And?"
"He claims the transfers to V Holdings were legitimate business consulting expenses."
I stared at her.
"Consulting?"
She nodded.
"That's his position."
I laughed bitterly.
"Vanessa has never worked as a business consultant."
Patricia looked serious.
"We'll need evidence of what services were actually provided."
I nodded.
She continued.
"There's another issue."
My heart began pounding.
"What?"
"Marcus's attorney says he's preparing to challenge the temporary residence order."
I took a breath.
"Okay."
Patricia looked surprised.
"You're calmer than I expected."
I gave a small, tired smile.
"Because I've already decided something."
"What?"
"I'm not going to spend the rest of my life being afraid of my husband."
Patricia nodded.
"Good."
Then she slid another document across the table.
It was a statement from the bank.
I looked at it.
And froze.
A new withdrawal request had been submitted overnight.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
From our business reserve account.
I stared at the authorization.
Marcus's electronic signature appeared at the bottom.
Beside it was a second name.
Vanessa Reynolds.
My stomach dropped.
"How can she authorize anything?"
Patricia's expression hardened.
"That's exactly what we need to find out."
I looked toward the hallway where my children were sleeping.
And suddenly, I understood that Marcus wasn't simply trying to keep his mistress comfortable.
He was trying to move money before the court could stop him.
Money he'd expected me never to discover.
May you like
The ballroom humiliation had been terrible.
But the financial betrayal was only beginning.
