Chapter 5 - The Woman I Was Supposed to Hate
Isabel arrived in New York the next morning.
Alone.
She asked to meet Rebecca rather than me.
That earned her five minutes.
Then she earned more.
By noon, I was sitting across from the woman I had spent weeks imagining.
She was beautiful.
That irritated me.
Blond hair.
Gray eyes.
Elegant coat.
But she did not look triumphant.
She looked exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I said nothing.
“I believed him.”
“Did you sleep with my husband?”
Rebecca glanced at me.
I did not care.
Isabel swallowed.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than an excuse would have.
“How long?”
“Four months.”
I looked away.
Four months.
She continued.
“He said your marriage had been over for two years.”
“It hadn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“Did you love him?”
“I thought I did.”
That surprised me.
“And now?”
“Now I think I loved the man he invented.”
I understood that more than I wanted to.
Isabel placed a flash drive on Rebecca’s desk.
“What’s that?”
“Everything I copied before leaving Aspen.”
Emails.
Financial statements.
Recordings from meetings.
Photographs.
And one audio file.
Rebecca played it.
Victor’s voice came first.
“The wife cannot discover Northstar before January.”
Then Nathan.
“What if she does?”
A chair moved.
Then Julian spoke.
“She won’t.”
I stopped breathing.
Victor laughed.
“You’re certain?”
Julian answered immediately.
“Elena trusts me.”
Three words.
Three ordinary words.
They destroyed something in me.
Not because he hated me.
Because he had weaponized my love.
The recording continued.
Victor discussed refinancing Northstar assets.
Andrew Cole discussed backdated authorization documents.
Then Julian said something even worse.
“Once the restructuring closes, there’s no practical way for her to untangle it.”
Rebecca stopped the recording.
Nobody spoke.
Finally I asked, “Why January?”
Isabel answered.
“Victor’s company is collapsing.”
The nine million dollars Daniel found had been used to cover losses.
They needed another loan.
My inherited assets were the collateral.
If the transaction closed, millions more could disappear.
Rebecca immediately began making calls.
The rest moved quickly.
Not dramatically.
No shouting.
No revenge speech.
Just paperwork.
Emergency filings.
Fraud notices.
Preservation demands.
Banks contacted.
Transactions frozen.
By five that afternoon, Northstar could not move a dollar.
At 5:19, Julian called me.
I watched his name flash.
Rebecca nodded.
“Answer.”
“Elena.”
His voice was different.
No warmth.
No Tokyo performance.
“What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you contact First Metropolitan?”
I let three seconds pass.
“Why would I contact your bank?”
Silence.
Then he changed tactics.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
Technically, I was in a building.
Just not ours.
“Elena.”
His voice hardened.
“Where is Harrison?”
“With me.”
“Put him on.”
“He’s asleep.”
“Elena, I need you to listen carefully.”
There it was.
The voice he used when he wanted obedience to sound like protection.
“Go ahead.”
“Someone may contact you about your mother’s estate.”
“Who?”
“People trying to create problems.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Financial misunderstandings.”
I almost smiled.
Nine million dollars had become a misunderstanding.
“You shouldn’t sign anything.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t speak to Rebecca Shaw.”
I looked directly at Rebecca.
“Why?”
“She doesn’t understand the situation.”
Rebecca raised one eyebrow.
I nearly laughed.
Julian continued.
“I’ll explain when I’m home.”
“When will that be?”
“Tomorrow.”
“But you said New Year’s Eve.”
“Plans changed.”
Of course they had.
The money had stopped moving.
Suddenly his family mattered again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
I ended the call.
Rebecca stared at me.
“You’re not seeing him tomorrow.”
“I know.”
That night, I received seventeen calls.
Julian.
Nathan.
Victor.
Andrew Cole.
I answered none.
At 11:42 p.m., a message arrived from Julian.
Whatever Rebecca told you, she doesn’t know everything. I did this for us.
For us.
I read it twice.
Then Harrison wandered from his bedroom carrying his dinosaur.
“Mommy?”
I put down the phone.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“Daddy home?”
My throat tightened.
“Not tonight.”
He climbed into my lap.
“Daddy loves me?”
That question broke me in a way Julian’s betrayal had not.
I held my son.
“Yes.”
Because whatever Julian had done to me, I would not make a two-year-old carry it.
Harrison fell asleep against my chest.
Twenty minutes later, Rebecca called.
“They tried to move the money.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“Victor.”
“And?”
“Blocked.”
I closed my eyes.
“Good.”
“Elena, there’s something else.”
Of course there was.
“The attempted transfer triggered an internal review.”
“And?”
“The bank found a second set of documents.”
My stomach sank.
“What documents?”
Rebecca paused.
“Custody-related financial declarations.”
“I never filed for custody.”
“I know.”
“What do they say?”
Her answer turned my fear into fury.
“They say you’re financially unstable.”
I stood.
“What?”
“And that Julian has been Harrison’s primary financial provider since birth.”
I could barely speak.
“Why would he prepare that?”
Rebecca’s voice became very quiet.
“Because I don’t think Julian was planning to come home from Aspen and continue your marriage.”
The room seemed to tilt.
May you like
“What was he planning?”
“To leave you first.”
