Chapter 1
My husband thought it was funny that he slapped me in the mouth in front of his colleagues after I made a harmless joke. He leaned in and hissed, "Know your place." I smiled slowly, wiped the blood from my lip, and said, "You just slapped the wrong person." What he didn't know was that all the phones in the room had just recorded the moment his career ended.
The room went silent before the pain even reached my brain. My husband had just slapped me across the mouth in front of twenty-three people—and then smiled as if humiliating his wife were part of the evening’s entertainment.
We were standing in the executive lounge of Halcyon Dynamics, the defense-technology company where my husband, Richard Mercer, had spent fifteen years clawing his way toward the position of regional president.
Champagne glittered beneath chandeliers. His colleagues laughed too loudly at everything he said.
I had made one harmless joke.
Richard had been bragging that nobody could negotiate contracts as aggressively as he could.
I smiled and said, “Except when the cable company raises our bill. Then Richard suddenly needs me.”
A few people laughed.
Richard didn’t.
His eyes changed.
Then his hand moved.
The slap cracked through the room.
My head snapped sideways. My champagne glass slipped from my fingers and shattered.
Someone gasped.
Richard leaned close enough for me to smell whiskey on his breath.
“Know your place,” he hissed.
Blood gathered where my tooth had cut my lip.
I touched it with two fingers.
For years, Richard had corrected me privately.
Don’t embarrass me.
Don’t talk about your work.
Don’t mention your family.
Smile more.
Speak less.
Tonight, he had finally stopped hiding what he was.
I looked around.
His vice president stared at the floor.
Two junior managers looked horrified.
Richard’s closest friend, Daniel Cross, actually smirked.
Richard mistook the silence for obedience.
“Come on,” he announced, laughing. “She knows I’m joking.”
Nobody answered.
I slowly wiped the blood from my mouth.
Then I smiled.
“You just slapped the wrong person.”
Richard blinked.
“What?”
But I wasn’t looking at him anymore.
I was looking at the phones.
At least twelve people had been recording Richard’s speech when he hit me. One phone was still raised in the air.
Richard noticed.
His confidence flickered.
Only for a second.
Then Daniel laughed.
“Relax, Rich. Nobody here is going to ruin your career over a domestic misunderstanding.”
Domestic misunderstanding.
I almost admired the speed of the euphemism.
Richard straightened his jacket.
“That’s right.”
He grabbed my elbow.
“Go clean yourself up.”
I removed his hand.
Quietly.
Carefully.
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
What Richard didn’t know was that I wasn’t just the quiet wife who attended corporate dinners and disappeared into the background.
Before marrying him, I had spent eleven years as a corporate compliance attorney.
And three weeks earlier, Halcyon Dynamics had hired my firm.
Confidentially.
May you like
To investigate Richard Mercer.
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