Chapter 7
I didn't shout.
I wanted to.
But shouting wouldn't help me understand whether Ethan had compromised my business.
And unlike the secrets surrounding Maya's birth, this problem might still be stopped before it caused permanent damage.
I sat across from Denise.
"Tell me everything about the laptop."
She looked frightened.
"It was only for a few minutes."
"What did he do?"
"He said he needed to download a document from his email."
"Did you watch him?"
She shook her head.
"I went to the counter to order coffee."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you leave him alone with it?"
"Yes."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked, "Did he install anything?"
"I don't know."
"Did he copy files?"
"I don't know."
I rubbed my forehead.
Those three words had become the soundtrack of our marriage.
I don't know.
I don't remember.
I didn't think.
I stood.
"Where is the laptop?"
"In my office."
"Don't turn it on."
Denise nodded.
I called David.
He advised me to preserve the device and contact an independent digital forensic specialist.
Within hours, the laptop was secured for examination.
I also asked my company's accountant, Olivia Grant, to review our financial records.
Olivia had worked with me for nearly ten years.
She knew every vendor.
Every project.
Every account.
When I explained the situation, she looked stunned.
"Marcus, are you saying someone may have accessed business records?"
"Possibly."
She nodded.
"Then we need to determine exactly what was exposed."
For the next several days, we worked carefully.
We changed credentials through secure devices.
Reviewed access logs.
Checked vendor payment instructions.
Preserved relevant records.
And notified the appropriate institutions about the suspected compromise.
I didn't tell employees more than they needed to know.
Panic wouldn't help.
But I refused to ignore the risk.
Then Olivia found something.
She called me into her office.
"Marcus, sit down."
My stomach tightened.
"What is it?"
She turned her monitor toward me.
"Three payment requests were submitted using a vendor name that closely resembles one of our legitimate subcontractors."
I leaned forward.
"How close?"
"One letter different."
I stared at the screen.
The genuine company was called Southern Ridge Electrical.
The suspicious recipient was Southern Ridges Electrical.
I felt cold.
"How much?"
Olivia swallowed.
"Sixty-three thousand dollars."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Did we pay it?"
"Two transfers cleared before our system flagged the third request."
I closed my eyes.
"How much cleared?"
"Forty-two thousand."
I stood abruptly.
"Forty-two thousand dollars?"
Olivia nodded.
"The requests appeared to come from an authorized account."
I looked at her.
"Can we recover it?"
"We've notified the bank. Recovery is possible, but not guaranteed."
I paced the office.
Forty-two thousand dollars.
Money intended to pay subcontractors.
Money that supported my employees and their families.
And now it might be gone.
I felt sick.
Then Olivia said something that stopped me.
"Marcus, there's another detail."
"What?"
"The suspicious requests began two days after Denise's meeting with Ethan."
I stared at her.
The timing was impossible to ignore.
But timing alone wasn't proof.
We needed the forensic report.
Two days later, the specialist called.
The laptop contained evidence of unauthorized software and suspicious file access.
The findings suggested someone had copied stored documents and potentially captured saved credentials.
The specialist couldn't identify the person responsible from the device alone.
But the activity was consistent with the time Denise had left Ethan alone with the laptop.
I forwarded the report to David and the investigators.
Then I went home.
Denise was sitting in the living room.
When she saw my expression, she stood.
"Marcus?"
I placed a copy of the report on the table.
"Our company lost forty-two thousand dollars."
She covered her mouth.
"What?"
"Someone used information that may have been taken from your laptop."
Her knees seemed to weaken.
She sat down.
"Oh, God."
I looked at her.
"Denise, this isn't just about our marriage anymore."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I never meant—"
"I know you didn't mean it."
My voice cracked.
"But your choices have consequences."
She began crying.
I looked away.
I felt anger.
Grief.
Exhaustion.
And something else.
A deep sadness for the family we'd been before the secrets began.
Then Denise whispered, "I'll help you fix it."
I turned back.
"How?"
She wiped her face.
"I still have the messages. And I know where Ethan sometimes meets people."
I shook my head.
"We're not confronting him."
"No. I mean I'll give everything to the investigators."
I looked at her.
"Even if it proves you lied to me?"
She nodded.
"Even then."
For the first time, I saw something different in her face.
Not fear of being caught.
Not desperation to keep me.
Responsibility.
It didn't repair our marriage.
But it mattered.
Over the next week, Denise cooperated with investigators.
She provided bank records, messages, and information about her meeting with Ethan.
Angela also shared additional evidence about his previous financial disputes.
The police reviewed the threats involving Maya.
Financial investigators examined the suspicious vendor payments.
Then, one Thursday morning, David called.
"Marcus, they've identified the account that received the forty-two thousand dollars."
My heart pounded.
"Who owns it?"
"A business entity linked to Ethan Walker."
I closed my eyes.
"Can they prove he was involved?"
"There's more evidence being reviewed. But this is a significant development."
I thanked him.
Then I sat quietly.
For months, Ethan had frightened my family.
He had threatened my daughter.
Taken money from my wife.
And possibly stolen from my business.
Now investigators had something concrete.
That evening, Maya came into my office.
"Dad?"
I looked up.
She was holding an envelope.
"What's that?"
"My first paycheck."
I smiled.
"Congratulations."
She walked closer.
"I made three hundred and twenty dollars."
"That's excellent."
She grinned.
"After taxes."
I laughed.
"Welcome to adulthood."
She sat across from me.
Then she slid the envelope toward me.
"Here."
I frowned.
"What's this?"
"Half for prom."
I stared at her.
"Maya, you don't have to give me your paycheck."
She shook her head.
"I want to."
My throat tightened.
"Sweetheart—"
She smiled.
"You said if I earned half, you'd match it."
I looked at my daughter.
Despite everything, she had remembered our agreement.
She had worked hard.
She had found a cheaper dress.
And she had learned something that no amount of money could buy.
I reached across the desk.
"I'm proud of you."
Her eyes filled.
"Really?"
"More than you know."
I hugged her.
Then my phone rang.
David.
I answered.
"Marcus, I have an update."
His voice sounded unusually serious.
"Investigators are preparing to arrest Ethan Walker."
My pulse quickened.
"When?"
"Very soon."
I looked at Maya.
She was smiling.
For the first time in weeks, I felt hope.
Then David added something unexpected.
"There's one more thing. Ethan has named someone he claims helped him access the business records."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
May you like
David paused.
"Denise."
