Chapter 4 - The Price of Betrayal
Friday had always been my deadline.
Now I understood why that date mattered.
Julian and Vanessa were planning to finalize a deal involving my business.
And they believed I had no idea.
I sat across from Rebecca while she explained what her investigators had found.
The proposed buyer was a company called Carter Meridian Investments.
Its managing director was Richard Carter.
Vanessa's uncle.
The acquisition proposal valued Crown & Grace at $2.4 million.
I nearly laughed.
Not because the number was small.
Because the valuation ignored our brand agreements, loyal clientele, expansion pipeline, and consistent profitability.
"They think they can buy my company at a discount," I said.
Rebecca nodded.
"And use the disputed loan arrangements to pressure you."
"Can they actually do it?"
"Not with valid authority from you. We're taking steps to stop unauthorized actions. But we need to establish how far their preparations went."
She showed me a timeline.
Vanessa had first approached my business eleven months earlier.
Maya had rejected her proposal.
Four months later, Vanessa transferred into Julian's department.
Soon afterward, their relationship began.
Then came the suspicious financing documents.
Finally, the attempted sale.
I stared at the dates.
"She targeted me."
Rebecca folded her hands.
"That's a possibility the evidence supports. We're still establishing everyone's involvement."
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked a question.
"What does Julian get?"
Rebecca showed me another document.
Under the proposed transaction, Sterling Growth Partners would receive a consulting payment of $320,000.
Julian was also listed as a proposed executive adviser after the sale.
A guaranteed annual compensation package.
A company car.
And performance bonuses.
My husband had planned to sell my life's work and reward himself with a better career.
I stared at his name.
"He told everyone I was just a hairstylist."
Rebecca's expression softened.
"I know."
"He laughed at my business for eight years."
"And now he's trying to profit from it."
I looked toward the window.
Austin stretched beneath the morning sunshine.
Somewhere in that city, my employees were opening our salons, preparing stations, greeting clients, and building their futures.
Julian saw numbers on a page.
I saw human beings.
"I want him stopped."
"We're working on that."
Rebecca explained that Red Oak had agreed to suspend action on the disputed guarantee while investigating.
The bank had rejected the unauthorized transfer request.
Our independent accountant had confirmed that Crown & Grace had not received the loan proceeds.
Those facts were important.
But Rebecca wanted more.
"We need evidence connecting Julian and Vanessa to the false documents."
I remembered something.
"Julian has a home office."
Rebecca looked up.
"He keeps files there?"
"Yes. Contracts, travel records, old laptops."
"Don't enter the home or search his private devices without legal guidance," she warned. "We'll pursue proper disclosure."
I nodded.
Then my phone buzzed.
Julian.
"Come home tonight. We need to talk."
I showed Rebecca.
"Don't go alone," she said.
I thought for a moment.
"What if we meet in public?"
"That may be safer. Keep the conversation calm and don't disclose our strategy."
I texted him.
"Tomorrow. Noon. The café on Congress Avenue."
His reply came immediately.
"Fine. Don't be late."
I stared at the screen.
He still spoke to me like an employee.
The next morning, I arrived at the café fifteen minutes early.
Rebecca knew where I was.
My father waited nearby in case I needed help.
Julian walked in wearing a navy suit.
His hair was perfectly styled.
His expensive watch flashed beneath his cuff.
He looked like the man I had once loved.
Until he smiled.
"Well," he said, sitting down. "You finally fixed that disaster on your head."
I said nothing.
He glanced around.
"Where have you been staying?"
"Somewhere safe."
He laughed.
"Safe? Elena, don't be ridiculous."
I looked directly at him.
"You grabbed me and cut off my hair."
His smile faded.
"You're still talking about that?"
"Yes."
"It was a joke."
"Was it funny?"
He leaned forward.
"Don't start."
I held his gaze.
"Why did you marry me, Julian?"
He blinked.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A simple one."
"Because I loved you."
I waited.
He shifted uncomfortably.
"Look, I know things have been difficult."
"Difficult?"
"Vanessa and I have a connection. I won't apologize for being happy."
The words struck hard.
But they didn't surprise me.
"What do you want from me?" I asked.
He sighed dramatically.
"I want us to handle this like adults."
He reached into his briefcase.
My stomach tightened.
He placed a folder on the table.
"There's an opportunity for your salons."
I stared at it.
"An opportunity?"
"A serious investor is interested in expanding your little business."
My little business.
Again.
"Who?"
"People who understand finance."
"And what do you need from me?"
"Just a few signatures."
I nearly laughed.
There it was.
He slid a pen toward me.
"The numbers are good. You wouldn't understand the complicated parts, but trust me."
I looked at the pen.
Then at my husband's face.
"Why should I trust you?"
He stiffened.
"Because I'm your husband."
"You're sleeping with another woman."
"That's separate."
"You cut my hair."
"You're obsessed with that."
I closed the folder.
"Then explain the numbers."
His expression changed.
"What?"
"Explain the valuation. The proposed debt arrangements. The ownership structure."
He stared.
I continued.
"What's the projected EBITDA after the expansion?"
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
"Where did you hear that word?"
I smiled faintly.
"At work."
He pushed back his chair.
"Stop trying to sound clever."
I stood.
"No signatures today."
His face flushed.
"Elena, don't ruin this."
I picked up my handbag.
"Whose deal is it, Julian?"
He said nothing.
"Yours? Vanessa's? Or mine?"
His hand shot toward the folder.
I stepped back before he could reach me.
"Don't touch me."
Several people turned.
Julian lowered his voice.
"You're making a terrible mistake."
I looked at him.
"No. I made my mistake eight years ago."
Then I walked away.
That evening, Rebecca called.
The commercial lender had uncovered a recorded conference call associated with the proposed financing.
Its compliance team had preserved the recording and was reviewing it with counsel.
Rebecca had learned something important from their attorney.
During the call, Julian had reportedly made a statement about my signature.
"What statement?" I asked.
She paused.
"He said you would never challenge it because you were too afraid to leave him."
My stomach twisted.
"Can we get that recording?"
"We're seeking its lawful release through the investigation."
I stared out the apartment window.
My father was cooking dinner in the kitchen.
For the first time in years, I felt protected rather than controlled.
"Rebecca?"
"Yes?"
"Friday is still the fifth day."
"I know."
"Will he find out?"
May you like
Her answer was quiet.
"Oh, Elena. He's going to find out."
