She looked at him slowly.
For once, her anger turned in the right direction.
Daniel leaned forward. “Those were reimbursements.”
Helen slid another document across the table. “For what services did your mother provide?”
Patricia snapped, “I don’t work for you.”
Helen nodded. “Exactly.”
The room went still.
Then came the vendor contracts.
Three shell companies tied to Daniel’s cousins.
Inflated invoices.
Duplicate consulting fees.
Fake logistics reports.
The preliminary loss was $640,000.
Patricia pressed a hand to her mouth.
Daniel looked at me with the wounded expression he used when charm failed.
“You’re really going to destroy me over money?”
I touched the torn dress.
“No. You destroyed yourself over greed.”
His mask cracked.
“You think you built everything alone?” he snapped. “Clients trusted this company because I knew how to speak to them. Men like dealing with me. You were too cold, too intense, too obsessed with control.”
I looked at the red recording light on the table.
“Thank you,” I said.
His eyes followed mine.
Too late.
Helen opened the final folder.
“This is an email Daniel sent to a private attorney two weeks ago,” she said.
Daniel stood. “That’s privileged.”
“Not when it was forwarded from a company account during an internal fraud investigation,” Helen replied.
She read the subject line aloud.
“Asset strategy before separation.”
My pulse stayed calm.
In the email, Daniel called me unstable. Said my reputation could be pressured. Asked if he could claim part of my house because he had “enhanced its social value.” Then came the sentence that made Patricia stop breathing.
