Chapter 2 - THE BLACK BINDER
Nobody moved for several seconds.
Only the rain against the windows broke the silence.
Sabrina stared at David.
“You’re supposed to be in Houston.”
“I canceled the trip.”
“When?”
“After Claire called me.”
She turned toward me with open hatred.
“You called my husband?”
“No,” I said. “I called the man whose money you were stealing.”
Grant slammed his hand against the table.
“This is ridiculous.”
David opened the binder.
“Then you should enjoy the next few minutes.”
Grant moved toward him.
“Stay out of my marriage.”
David barely reacted.
“You climbed into mine.”
Sabrina began talking quickly.
“David, please. Whatever Claire told you—”
“She showed me bank transfers.”
Silence.
“Transfers from our joint investment account,” David continued. “Money you told me was financing your salon project.”
Sabrina blinked.
“That was the plan.”
David turned a page.
“Your salon apparently bought custom Italian cabinetry for this house.”
Her lips parted.
Grant interrupted.
“David, financial arrangements between Sabrina and me are none of your concern.”
David smiled.
“My money tends to become my concern.”
I moved toward the fireplace.
Once evidence is strong enough, volume becomes unnecessary.
David removed three wire-transfer records.
“Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars,” he said. “Moved from my family investment account into three LLCs tied to Grant.”
Sabrina looked at Grant.
“You said those were legitimate development vehicles.”
Grant snapped, “They were.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me Claire didn’t know about them?”
Grant looked at me.
“Because Claire knows everything about the company.”
“Not everything,” I said. “Not until six weeks ago.”
I picked up another folder from the console.
“After you asked for the divorce, I reviewed every transaction above fifty thousand dollars from the last two years.”
“You had no authority.”
“I’m chief design officer and a forty-six-percent shareholder.”
His expression tightened.
“I found consulting payments to companies with no employees. Vendor contracts tied to your college roommate. Reimbursements for hotels where no company meetings occurred.”
Sabrina looked away.
“And,” I continued, “a power of attorney with my forged signature.”
David looked at Grant.
Even he had not known that.
Sabrina whispered, “Forged?”
Grant laughed too quickly.
“Claire loves drama.”
I held up a copy.
“This document authorized the transfer of development rights from Rowan Architectural Holdings.”
Grant’s eyes immediately flicked toward it.
Recognition.
I had wondered whether he knew about the document personally.
Now I had my answer.
“You recognize this?”
“No.”
“You looked at the signature before you looked at the title.”
His jaw tightened.
My attorney, Nolan Pierce, stepped into the room from the hallway.
Grant nearly swore.
Nolan placed a tablet on the table.
“The original is currently secured with outside counsel,” he said. “We also have server access logs showing the file was uploaded from the computer assigned to Grant’s executive assistant.”
Grant pointed at him.
“You are participating in theft of privileged corporate data.”
“No,” Nolan replied. “I’m preserving materials voluntarily provided by an authorized company officer after discovery of suspected fraud.”
Sabrina moved away from Grant.
That tiny movement told me everything.
She had been drawn to his certainty.
Now it was disappearing.
Grant noticed too.
“You knew what we were doing,” he told her.
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
“You knew.”
“Don’t drag me into this.”
David laughed once.
“You arrived here planning the master bedroom.”
Sabrina snapped toward him.
“Our marriage was dead.”
“You were free to leave.”
“You weren’t there for me.”
“You were free to leave.”
“You cared more about the factories than you cared about us.”
“You were still free to leave.”
David remained calm.
“That’s the part you keep avoiding, Sabrina. You had every right to stop loving me. You did not have the right to steal from me while pretending you were still my wife.”
Grant paced toward the windows.
“This is still just marital garbage dressed up as financial misconduct.”
I nodded toward Nolan.
He tapped the tablet.
Grant’s recorded voice filled the room.
“If Claire sees the transfer package already finalized, she’ll sign. She hates scandal more than she hates losing.”
Grant froze.
Another male voice asked, “And the Rowan ownership problem?”
Grant answered.
“We bury it inside the settlement. Once she waives the challenge, we restructure.”
Nolan stopped the recording.
Sabrina stared at Grant.
David closed his eyes.
I felt no triumph.
Only finality.
Grant looked toward the tablet.
“Illegal recording.”
“A participant recorded the conversation,” Nolan said.
“Who?”
“You’ll learn through counsel.”
Grant came toward me.
The charming man had vanished.
“I gave you everything.”
I met his eyes.
“No, Grant. You gave me access to rooms where I did the work.”
“You were nobody when I met you.”
“I had an architecture license, a studio, and three commercial contracts.”
“You had nothing.”
“And yet you needed to forge my signature.”
His face went white.
Sabrina whispered behind him, “You told me she would sign willingly.”
Grant spun around.
“Shut up.”
David stepped forward once.
Grant suddenly looked surrounded.
He grabbed the divorce folder.
“This conversation is over.”
“Not quite.”
He turned.
I pointed toward the front windows.
Two black SUVs had pulled up outside.
Grant stared at them.
“Who are they?”
“People from an independent forensic accounting firm.”
His voice cracked.
“You brought auditors here?”
“And outside counsel.”
“You’re insane.”
“No.”
I moved closer.
“I’m thorough.”
He glanced at the door.
“You cannot detain me.”
“I’m not going to.”
I opened it.
“You are completely free to leave.”
He hesitated.
“And tomorrow morning,” I continued, “the board receives every document in this room.”
That stopped him.
For years, Grant believed scandal was what I feared most.
He was wrong.
My real fear had been realizing how much of myself I had surrendered to preserve a marriage that only worked when I was useful.
That fear was gone.
Grant turned back.
“If you do this, you destroy the company.”
“No.”
I held his gaze.
“I’m going to find out whether the company can survive without protecting you.”
His expression turned poisonous.
“You think they’ll choose you?”
“I think they’ll choose their money.”
David smiled.
Grant looked at him, then Nolan, then Sabrina.
Sabrina would not meet his eyes.
Their great romance was already cracking.
Not because of morality.
Because of liability.
Before Grant finally left, he leaned close and whispered:
“You’re going to regret making me your enemy.”
I answered quietly.
“You became my enemy the day you decided I was easier to steal from than to divorce.”
May you like
The door closed behind him.
The real war had just begun.
