Chapter 2 - SEVEN YEARS EARLIER
I met Damian Cross when I was twenty-six.
He was thirty-two.
Confident.
Polished.
Funny in a way that made everyone at the table believe the joke was meant especially for them.
My father hated him within ten minutes.
At the time, that made me like Damian more.
Nathaniel Ward had opinions about everything.
My college.
My career.
My apartment.
The men I dated.
He loved me fiercely.
But he had never learned that loving someone and managing them were not the same thing.
Damian understood that immediately.
“He treats you like a case file,” Damian told me after our third date.
I should have noticed how quickly he studied my wounds.
Instead, I mistook being understood for being safe.
Within a year, he had proposed.
My father refused to give his blessing.
I told him I had not asked for permission.
He told me there were things about Damian’s finances that bothered him.
I accused him of investigating my boyfriend.
He admitted he had.
That argument ended our relationship.
Mine and my father’s.
Not mine and Damian’s.
Exactly as Damian wanted.
The night before my wedding, my father came to my apartment.
He stood outside for twenty minutes.
I never opened the door.
Damian stood behind me.
His hands rested gently on my shoulders.
“You don’t owe him anything.”
Seven years later, I finally understood the cruelty hidden inside those words.
Damian never ordered me to cut off my father.
He simply made reconciliation feel like surrender.
By our second anniversary, I had stopped returning family calls.
By our third, Damian handled most of our finances.
By our fourth, he knew my passwords.
By our fifth, he had convinced me that working was “too stressful.”
By our sixth, every dollar I spent appeared on an alert on his phone.
By our seventh, I was pregnant.
And afraid.
The hospital released me six hours after Sabrina attacked me.
The baby was healthy.
I had bruising along my side, but no serious injury.
Naomi drove me away.
Not my father.
I had asked him not to come.
He respected that.
Another thing the old Nathaniel Ward might not have done.
We went directly to Naomi’s office.
A forensic accountant named Peter Lang joined us.
He examined the bank pages.
“These could be fabricated.”
“They aren’t,” I said.
He looked at me.
“How do you know?”
I pointed at the account number.
“I’ve seen that account.”
Naomi leaned forward.
“Where?”
“Damian’s office.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“What did he say it was?”
“Operating reserves.”
Peter examined the transfers.
“Wren Consulting.”
The name bothered me.
I could not explain why.
Then I remembered.
“Sabrina.”
Naomi looked up.
“What about her?”
“Her mother’s maiden name was Wren.”
Silence.
Peter typed quickly.
Within minutes, he found the registration.
Wren Consulting LLC had been incorporated eighteen months earlier.
Its registered agent was a corporate service.
Its mailing address was a private box.
But one old state filing contained an emergency contact.
Sabrina Cole.
Naomi leaned back.
“So your husband transferred nearly six million dollars into a company connected to his mistress.”
“In my name?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Peter tapped the note.
Check your signatures.
“Whoever gave you these documents thinks forged authorizations exist.”
My phone buzzed.
Damian.
Then again.
Then again.
Thirty-two missed calls waited on the screen.
Naomi reached across the desk.
“Don’t answer.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
A message appeared.
YOU ARE MAKING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE.
Another.
COME HOME.
Then another.
I HAVE BEEN PATIENT LONG ENOUGH.
Naomi photographed the screen.
My phone rang again.
This time it was not Damian.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Nobody spoke.
Then a woman whispered.
“Mrs. Cross?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know me.”
My eyes moved toward Naomi.
The woman continued.
“My name is Elena Ruiz.”
I recognized it.
Damian’s former executive assistant.
She had disappeared from Cross Meridian almost a year earlier.
Damian told me she had stolen money.
“What do you want?”
“To tell you that the signatures are only the beginning.”
My skin turned cold.
“What did Damian do?”
May you like
Elena inhaled shakily.
“You need to find the life insurance policy.”
