Chapter 2
When Beatrice opened her eyes, the very first thing she did was apologize.
“I’m so sorry, Valerie… this is all my fault.”
“No, Beatrice,” I said gently, holding her hand. “It happened because they believe they’re untouchable.”
She looked down, tears welling in her eyes. “Fernando hit me for the first time when Julian was just four years old. I learned how to hide the bruises. I thought that if I just endured it, my son would grow up safe.”
“Did Julian know?”
“He watched it happen his entire life.”
She went on to confess that she had tried to leave several times, but Fernando controlled all their bank accounts, hid her legal documents, and threatened to leave her penniless on the street. Every time she came back, it reinforced a lesson in Julian’s mind: that fear was an acceptable tool of authority.
That realization hurt far more than the blow to my face.
Then, Beatrice squeezed my fingers tightly. “Three months ago, I overheard Fernando and Julian talking about your upcoming wedding. Julian said, ‘Once I’m married to Valerie, Arthur won’t cut off our credit line even if he catches the accounting discrepancies.’ And Fernando replied, ‘Just get her down the aisle first. After that, she’s family, and family stays quiet.’”
A wave of nausea washed over me. Perhaps Julian had cared for me at one point, but he had ultimately allowed our marriage to be used as a financial lifeline.
While my father assembled a legal team, Gonzalo dug deeper into the books. He uncovered inflated invoices, shell companies, and fraudulent credit lines used to cover mounting corporate losses. Fernando—the man my father had treated like a brother for fifteen years—had been systematically stealing from our company for over a decade.
At 7:30 AM, I called my cousin Leticia, a family law and domestic violence attorney. She accompanied me back to the Manhattan penthouse to retrieve my personal belongings and document any further threats.
When we unlocked the door, we found Fernando, Julian’s aunt Monica, and their corporate lawyer waiting in the living room. Julian was still at the urgent care clinic getting his hand set in a cast.
Fernando slammed his hand onto the kitchen island. “Our attorney is filing criminal assault charges against you for breaking Julian’s hand, Valerie. If you want to avoid a massive public scandal, you’ll pay his medical bills and sign a statement acknowledging that you instigated the altercation.”
Leticia unzipped her leather briefcase and pulled out a thick folder.
“We have certified ER medical reports for both Valerie and Beatrice, crime scene photographs, the recorded 911 call, and a formal domestic violence report being submitted to the District Attorney’s office,” Leticia said calmly. “If you want to file charges, go right ahead. My client will be delivering her full statement to the police within the hour.”
The Vances’ attorney stopped smiling.
“Let’s not exaggerate here,” Fernando stammered, stepping back. “We’re family.”
“Not anymore,” I said.
I pulled up a document on my phone and held it out for him to see. “Thirteen dummy vendors. Over ten million dollars in fraudulent transactions currently under audit. My father is filing criminal fraud charges for every single bad invoice, and I am filing for an immediate annulment. I don’t need Julian’s permission, and I will not be bought into silence.”
Fernando turned pale.
I walked into the master bedroom, packed my clothes into two suitcases, and returned to the foyer. As I walked out, the Vances’ attorney was answering an urgent phone call. His expression turned instantly grim.
“We have another major issue,” the lawyer whispered frantically to Fernando.
Everyone froze.
“A major lender just froze Julian’s commercial accounts due to suspicious activity and requested an immediate audit,” the lawyer continued. “Your name is directly tied to those accounts, Fernando.”
Gonzalo called my phone at that exact moment. “Valerie, get over to your dad’s office right away. We found the direct paper trail linking those shell accounts to Julian’s personal firms. And there’s something else you need to see in person.”
I looked back at Fernando one last time. For the first time since I had known him, he didn’t look angry or powerful.
He looked terrified.
May you like
I grabbed my luggage and walked out the door with Leticia.
Before noon, we would find out whether my wedding had merely been a financial trap… or the final piece of something much larger.
