Then Daniel’s phone rang.
The smile disappeared immediately.
His accountant.
Then his bank.
Then the company financing Evelyn’s luxury vehicle.
“What do you mean the account is frozen?” he shouted.
Evelyn frowned.
“Daniel?”
“It’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t.
Marissa had already filed emergency motions.
Bank accounts connected to marital assets were frozen.
The assault report had been filed.
The mansion ownership records had been submitted.
The financial transfers were documented.
Every dollar I had quietly invested into Daniel’s life was accounted for.
By evening, Evelyn’s credit card was declined.
By night, Daniel called from an unknown number.
“What did you do?”
“I told the truth.”
“You think this scares me?”
“No,” I replied.
“I think your lawyer is about to scare you.”
Silence.
Then Evelyn’s voice screamed in the background.
