Chapter 4 - The Forensic Audit
I didn't answer Lucas’s text. I walked out of the penthouse, leaving Sophie trembling in her silk robe among her designer shopping bags, and drove straight back to our suburban home.
When I unlocked the front door, the house was dark and suffocatingly quiet. Lucas was sitting at the kitchen island with his head buried in his hands, looking like a man awaiting execution. The cream-colored package and the framed hotel keycard still sat on the marble counter like silent witnesses to his undoing.
He jumped up as I walked in, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. "Maya! Thank God. Where have you been? I've been out of my mind with worry."
"I went to the Aster Hotel, Lucas," I said calmly, tossing my keys onto the counter. "I had a lovely chat with Sophie. And an even more enlightening conversation with the concierge about how Parker Consulting has been billing luxury penthouse suites to corporate accounts."
Lucas stumbled backward, colliding with the edge of the kitchen island. He looked at me as if I were a ghost. "You... you went there?"
"I did. And while I was there, I realized something fascinating," I continued, walking over to the island and pulling my laptop from my tote bag. "You always told me that your startup was entirely self-funded, and that my salary was 'fun money' for us to save. But when I looked at the package Sophie sent today, I realized sloppy people always leave a paper trail."
I opened my laptop, typed in my encryption password, and spun the screen around to face him.
Displayed across the monitor was a comprehensive, highly detailed forensic financial audit of Parker Consulting LLC, cross-referenced with our joint tax returns, personal savings accounts, and corporate ledger statements over the last three years.
"What... what is this?" Lucas whispered, his voice trembling as he stared at the red lines and alarming discrepancies on the screen.
"This is the end of your career, Lucas," I said smoothly. "For the past three years, while you pretended to be a high-flying consultant, you’ve been systematically siphoning money out of our joint retirement accounts to fund your lifestyle, your investments, and your various girlfriends—including Sophie. But more importantly, you falsified corporate tax documents and misallocated venture capital funds to cover your tracks."
Lucas grabbed the edge of the counter, his breathing turning ragged and shallow. "Maya, you can't turn this over to the authorities! If the IRS audits Parker Consulting, I'll go to prison! I'll lose everything!"
"You already lost everything the moment you decided to treat our marriage like a revolving door and my hard-earned money like your personal slush fund," I replied, my voice hard as granite.
"Please!" Lucas begged, dropping heavily to his knees on the kitchen floor, clutching at the hem of my trousers exactly as I had anticipated he would. "We can fix this! I'll sign divorce papers right now! I'll give you the house, the cars, all my remaining stock options—just don't hand this audit over to the federal investigators!"
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I looked down at the man who had lied to my face, betrayed my trust, and tried to rob my future. There was no pity left in my heart—only the cold, satisfying thrill of absolute justice.
"You're welcome to sign the house over, Lucas," I said, stepping out of his pathetic grip. "Because you're going to need a place to sleep once the sheriff evicts you. But as for the federal investigators? I hit 'send' on this entire digital dossier five minutes before I walked through our front door."
