Chapter 3 - Seven Years of Lies
I stared at the photographs, feeling the blood drain from my face until my fingertips went numb.
For seven years, Richard had told me our budget was too tight for vacations, too fragile for dinner dates, and too precarious for children.
He made me feel guilty whenever I bought a new winter coat or took our aging dog to the vet for an ear infection.
Whenever I questioned our savings account balances, he spoke to me like a doctor soothing an irrational patient.
"You're just overwhelmed by the household chores, sweetie," he used to whisper, kissing my forehead with cold, distracted lips.
"Leave the heavy financial math to me."
Now, looking at Elena’s diamond bracelet in the glossy photographs, the pieces of my hollow marriage clicked together with terrifying clarity.
"He told me he stayed late at the office every Tuesday and Thursday for pro bono legal aid," I whispered, disgust rising in my throat.
"He was meeting Elena at a penthouse suite in River North," Victor corrected calmly.
"And every dollar he spent on her champagne was skimmed from my offshore escrow accounts."
The SUV slowed to a crawl as we entered an underground parking garage beneath a gleaming high-rise tower downtown.
Security guards stepped aside, saluting Victor with quiet deference as the elevator doors opened directly into a penthouse suite.
Victor gestured for me to sit on an Italian leather sofa while a quiet woman in a blazer brought me dry flats and hot tea.
May you like
"Richard thought Elena was his golden ticket out of ordinary domestic life," Victor said, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
"He didn't realize that in my world, partners who steal don't get promotions. They get deleted."
