Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO STOLE MORE THAN MY HUSBANDVincent's Perspective
When Sophia Reynolds walked into my office the following morning, she was smiling.
She wore a cream-colored designer suit, carried a handbag that probably cost more than some people's monthly rent, and looked completely unconcerned about the destruction surrounding her.
“Vincent, darling.”
She closed the door behind her.
“We need to stop this ridiculous silence between us.”
I remained behind my desk.
“Sit down, Sophia.”
Something in my voice made her pause.
“What's wrong?”
I pushed a copy of the disputed loan agreement toward her.
“Explain this.”
She glanced down.
For a fraction of a second, her expression changed.
Then she smiled.
“Harbor Point financing. What about it?”
“Claire's signature.”
Sophia shrugged.
“Your wife was supposed to approve the restructuring.”
“That's not what I asked.”
“Vincent, don't be dramatic.”
I stood.
“Did Claire sign this document?”
Sophia's smile disappeared.
“Why are you interrogating me?”
“Because I just discovered that my wife's ownership interest was used as security for a multimillion-dollar loan without her knowledge.”
She crossed her arms.
“Maybe she forgot signing it.”
I stared at her.
“Claire doesn't forget agreements involving millions of dollars.”
Sophia laughed quietly.
“You always did give her too much credit.”
Something inside me hardened.
“Don't talk about my wife that way.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Your wife?”
She repeated the words with deliberate emphasis.
“That's interesting, Vincent. You weren't particularly worried about your wife when you were in my hotel room.”
The accusation struck exactly where she intended.
But I didn't look away.
“You're right.”
Sophia blinked.
“I betrayed Claire. That's my responsibility. But it doesn't explain these documents.”
Her expression changed again.
For the first time, I saw something calculating behind her carefully polished charm.
“You think I'm responsible?”
“I think you know more than you're saying.”
She leaned forward.
“Be careful, Vincent. You have a lot to lose.”
I looked at the woman I'd risked my marriage for.
Six months earlier, I'd mistaken her attention for admiration.
Now I wondered whether she'd ever been interested in me at all.
“What happened to the six hundred eighty thousand dollars transferred to Sable Advisory?”
Sophia's jaw tightened.
“Legitimate consulting fees.”
“For what services?”
“Market research. Investor coordination. Development strategy.”
“Then provide the invoices and supporting records.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Are you seriously accusing me of stealing from you?”
“I'm asking you to explain a transfer.”
She stood abruptly.
“Claire has poisoned you against me.”
I almost laughed.
Claire hadn't spoken to me in four days.
She hadn't called.
She hadn't sent a single message.
She hadn't even told me where she was staying.
And Sophia was still trying to blame her.
“Claire doesn't know we're having this conversation,” I said.
Sophia picked up her handbag.
“Fine. If you want to destroy everything we've built together, go ahead.”
I moved toward the door.
“We haven't built anything together, Sophia.”
She stopped.
“Excuse me?”
“You were hired to provide consulting services. I let that relationship become personal, and it was a terrible mistake.”
Her face reddened.
“A mistake?”
“Yes.”
“What about all those nights you told me you needed someone who understood you?”
I swallowed.
“I was selfish. I wanted admiration without responsibility. That doesn't make what I did acceptable.”
For a moment, genuine hurt crossed her face.
Then it disappeared.
“You'll regret throwing me away.”
I opened the door.
“Whatever happens between us, Claire has nothing to do with the financial misconduct. Leave her alone.”
Sophia stepped closer.
Her voice dropped.
“You should worry less about protecting Claire and more about what she might be hiding from you.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
She smiled faintly.
“Ask your wife.”
Then she walked out.
I remained standing long after the elevator doors closed.
Something about that final remark disturbed me.
Sophia knew Claire was at a hospital.
But how?
I hadn't told her about the photograph.
I returned to my desk and called Marcus.
“Get me the security access records for the townhouse.”
“Sir?”
“Every entry, every camera recording, every temporary code issued during the last month.”
“Of course.”
“And tell Everett Price I want a complete accounting of the Harbor Point loan.”
Everett had served as Moretti Development's chief financial officer for nine years.
He was careful, conservative, and notoriously difficult to impress.
I'd trusted him with nearly every significant financial decision.
But trust had already cost me more than I could afford.
Within an hour, Everett entered my office.
He looked exhausted.
“Vincent, I heard there's a problem with the bridge financing.”
“A serious problem.”
I showed him the disputed agreement.
“Who verified Claire's signature?”
Everett adjusted his glasses.
“The paperwork came through Sable Advisory's closing coordinator.”
“Did anyone speak directly to Claire?”
He hesitated.
“I assumed your office handled that.”
My stomach sank.
“Everett.”
His face tightened.
“You told us Sophia was managing the outside consultants. You also instructed us not to delay Harbor Point over administrative issues.”
I remembered that conversation.
I'd been rushing to catch a flight.
Everett had raised questions about several incomplete documents.
I'd told him to work with Sophia and finish the financing package.
I hadn't authorized forgery.
But I'd created an environment in which everyone believed getting the deal done mattered more than asking difficult questions.
“I never authorized anyone to sign for Claire,” I said.
Everett looked away.
“Then we have a much bigger problem.”
We spent the next two hours examining transaction records.
The bridge loan had partly funded legitimate project expenses.
But the large consulting transfer raised serious concerns.
Several invoices contained vague descriptions.
Some referenced market studies that nobody could locate.
Others listed meetings that had never taken place.
Everett looked increasingly pale.
“I should have questioned these.”
“Yes,” I said.
“So should I.”
He lowered his eyes.
For years, I'd demanded absolute loyalty from my employees.
Now I was discovering how dangerous it could be when people were afraid to challenge me.
At four that afternoon, Marcus returned.
He carried a tablet.
“Sir, there's something you need to see.”
He placed it on my desk.
“This is footage from your townhouse three days before the anniversary.”
The recording showed the front entrance.
Then Sophia appeared.
Alone.
She entered using a temporary access code I'd given her months earlier so she could collect business files while I was traveling.
I hadn't realized the code was still active.
My hands tightened.
“Why was she there?”
Marcus didn't answer.
The footage changed to a hallway camera.
Sophia walked toward the upstairs bedrooms.
She paused outside the room Claire used as a private study.
Then she entered.
For nearly eleven minutes, she remained inside.
When she emerged, she carried a small pale-blue gift box.
I leaned closer.
“What is that?”
Marcus enlarged the image.
My heart began pounding.
The box was decorated with white ribbon.
A tiny silver moon charm hung from its handle.
I recognized it.
Claire had bought that charm during our honeymoon.
She'd once told me she wanted to use it when we finally had a baby.
The camera showed Sophia lifting the lid.
She looked inside.
Then she removed something small and white.
A knitted baby bootie.
My breath stopped.
Sophia held it in her hand for several seconds.
Then she placed it back inside the box.
And smiled.
I stared at the screen.
Three days before our anniversary, Sophia had entered my home.
She'd searched my wife's private room.
She'd discovered the pregnancy surprise Claire had prepared for me.
And she'd still arranged to meet me at our anniversary restaurant.
Marcus looked at me.
“Sir?”
I couldn't answer.
Because the truth was finally becoming clear.
Sophia hadn't accidentally destroyed my anniversary.
May you like
She'd known exactly what Claire was planning.
And she'd deliberately made sure I never came home to hear it.
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