Chapter 2 - Everyone Was Watching
Elena wasn't wearing the black dress she'd had on downstairs.
That was the first thing Martha noticed.
I knew because she made a small sound beside me.
Not quite a gasp.
More like someone having the air knocked out of her.
On the wall, Elena stood beside my bed wearing David's white dress shirt over her bare shoulders.
Twenty-two people watched.
Nobody spoke.
Then David stepped into view.
Shirtless.
His back was toward the camera.
Elena smiled.
“You really think she doesn't know?”
David laughed.
“Claire?”
Hearing my name come through the speakers changed something inside me.
I had expected pain.
Instead, I felt clarity.
David picked up his drink.
“Claire sees whatever I tell her to see.”
A woman behind me whispered, “Oh my God.”
It was David's aunt Rebecca.
Martha grabbed my arm.
“Turn this off.”
I didn't move.
“Claire.”
Her voice became sharper.
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
On-screen, Elena sat on the edge of our bed.
“What about tonight?”
“What about it?”
“Your whole family is downstairs.”
“Exactly.”
David smiled.
“She won't do anything with an audience.”
I almost laughed.
For nine years, my husband had known exactly how I behaved.
He knew I hated public scenes.
He knew I disliked raised voices.
He knew I would rather leave a room than embarrass someone in it.
He had confused dignity with weakness.
Elena touched his hand.
“And after tonight?”
David looked toward the bedroom door.
“After tonight, we finish the transfer.”
That word changed the atmosphere.
Transfer.
I felt Martha stiffen.
So did David's older brother, Michael.
“What transfer?” Michael asked.
I turned toward him.
“That,” I said, “is the second part of tonight's retrospective.”
Martha stared at me.
“Claire, what have you done?”
The strange thing was that she didn't ask what David had done.
She asked what I had done.
That told me everything.
Upstairs, something crashed.
David had apparently heard the voices from below.
His face disappeared from the projection.
Seconds later, footsteps thundered across the second floor.
I switched the feed off.
The screen went gray.
Nobody moved.
Then David appeared at the top of the staircase.
His shirt was only half-buttoned.
Elena was behind him.
She had changed back into her dress, but her hair and lipstick told the rest of the story.
David looked at the projector.
Then at me.
Then at his family.
“Claire.”
He said my name as though I had committed the betrayal.
I put the remote on the table.
“Hi, David.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
His father, Richard, stood.
“Watch your tone.”
David froze.
Richard Bennett was seventy-one, silver-haired and old-fashioned, a retired surgeon who believed his oldest son possessed more integrity than anyone he knew.
Until thirty seconds earlier.
David came downstairs.
“This isn't what it looks like.”
Someone actually laughed.
His cousin Daniel.
A short, humorless sound.
David glared at him.
Then he looked at me.
“You installed a camera in our bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“You recorded me without permission?”
I tilted my head.
“Is that really where you'd like to begin?”
His face reddened.
Elena stayed near the staircase.
“Claire, we should talk privately.”
“No.”
“I think—”
“I know what you think, Elena. I've spent eight months being told what both of you think.”
I picked up the leather folder I'd placed beneath the console table before the party.
David saw it.
For the first time that night, fear crossed his face.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
So did Michael.
“What is that?” Michael asked.
David answered too quickly.
“Nothing.”
I smiled.
There was that word again.
Nothing.
I opened the folder.
“Three months ago, David convinced me to sign documents connected to our investment company.”
Martha looked confused.
“What investment company?”
“Bennett-Hale Development.”
Richard frowned.
“That company is Claire's.”
“Exactly.”
My father had founded Hale Development thirty-two years earlier.
After he died, I inherited controlling interest.
David had spent years presenting himself as the man running it.
He wasn't.
He was chief operating officer.
I owned fifty-eight percent.
David owned twelve.
The remaining shares belonged to several investors and a family trust.
But during our marriage, David had gradually taken over the daily financial operations because I had stepped back to care for my father during his final illness.
I trusted my husband.
That had been expensive.
“Claire,” David said quietly.
“Don't.”
One word.
He stopped.
I removed a bank statement.
“Two weeks ago, our accountant noticed something strange.”
David's face drained.
“Which accountant?”
“Interesting question.”
“Claire.”
“Three transfers totaling $640,000.”
Martha sat down.
Richard stared at his son.
Michael whispered, “Jesus.”
David shook his head.
“Those were legitimate business expenses.”
“No.”
“They were.”
“They went to Ardent Consulting.”
Elena's expression changed.
There.
Finally.
The second betrayal had entered the room.
I looked directly at her.
“Would you like to tell them who owns Ardent Consulting?”
Elena said nothing.
David stepped forward.
“Stop.”
I held up a document.
“Ardent Consulting was registered fourteen months ago to Elena Vasquez.”
Every head turned.
Elena's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I continued.
“Six hundred forty thousand dollars from my company went to my husband's mistress.”
“We weren't—” Elena began.
“Don't insult me twice.”
Silence.
David's voice lowered.
“You don't understand the arrangement.”
“I understand more than you think.”
He took another step.
Richard moved between us.
“Stay where you are.”
David stared at his father.
“Dad.”
“No.”
It was the first time I had ever heard Richard speak to him that way.
I removed another sheet.
“The $640,000 wasn't the worst part.”
David's eyes locked on the page.
Michael noticed.
“What did you do?”
David said nothing.
I looked around the room.
“These transfers were tests.”
“Tests?” Rebecca asked.
I nodded.
“Small enough to disguise as consulting fees.”
David laughed nervously.
“She's making this up.”
“Am I?”
I pulled out the final document.
“The real transfer is scheduled for Monday morning.”
Richard looked at me.
“How much?”
I didn't answer immediately.
I watched David.
For months, he had made me question my instincts.
My intelligence.
My memory.
Now he could stand inside the uncertainty he had created.
Finally, I said it.
“Eight million dollars.”
Martha covered her mouth.
Michael swore.
Elena stepped backward.
David's composure cracked.
“Claire, give me that folder.”
“No.”
“You have no idea what you're interfering with.”
“Then explain it.”
He looked around the room.
“I can't.”
“Because it's confidential?”
“Yes.”
I almost admired the audacity.
“No, David.”
I pulled one final page from the folder.
“Because there is no business deal.”
His eyes widened.
“I called the bank yesterday.”
The room went silent again.
“And at 4:17 this afternoon, I canceled the transfer.”
David stared at me.
Then Elena whispered something.
It was barely audible.
But everyone heard it.
“You said she couldn't stop it.”
David turned toward her.
And that was when I understood something I hadn't known before.
Elena wasn't only his mistress.
She was his partner.
May you like
But the terror on her face told me something else.
Whatever David had promised her, he had been lying to Elena too.
