Chapter 5 - The Money They Planned to Take
“IF THAT TRANSFER GOES THROUGH MONDAY MORNING, WE MAY NEVER RECOVER THE MONEY, ELISE. AND SOMEONE HAS ALREADY MADE IT LOOK LIKE YOUR CFO AUTHORIZED IT.”
Margaret didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
We were back in her office, examining the documents Celeste had given me.
Outside, Saturday traffic moved along the wet streets of downtown Chicago.
Inside, we were trying to prevent almost a million dollars from disappearing.
I had spent the entire drive from Lincoln Park wondering whether Nina had betrayed me.
But Margaret immediately challenged my assumption.
“A name on an authorization record isn't proof that the person approved the transaction.”
“It's her account.”
“It appears to be. We need to determine whether someone used her credentials, fabricated the record, or obtained her approval under false pretenses.”
I crossed my arms.
“Do you think she knows?”
“I don't know.”
That answer was becoming painfully familiar.
I had so many questions.
And very few facts I could trust.
Margaret contacted the company's outside banking counsel and arranged for urgent notices concerning the disputed payment instructions.
We also engaged an independent digital forensics firm to preserve records from our systems.
I authorized additional restrictions on corporate disbursements.
Temporary dual approval.
Independent verification of unusual payments.
Suspension of access associated with the questionable vendor relationship.
None of it was glamorous.
There were no dramatic speeches.
No security guards throwing anyone out.
Just documents, phone calls, identity verification, and careful procedures.
But for the first time since the wedding, I felt like I was doing something useful.
At two that afternoon, I called Nina.
She answered immediately.
“Elise?”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Of course.”
“Did you approve a transfer of nine hundred and forty thousand dollars to Riverpoint Civic Partners?”
Silence.
Then I heard her chair move.
“What?”
“A transfer scheduled for Monday morning.”
“No.”
“Nina, your name is on the authorization.”
“That doesn't mean I authorized it.”
I closed my eyes.
“Can you prove that?”
“I can give the forensic team access to my records and explain every approval I've issued. But Elise, I've never heard of Riverpoint Civic Partners.”
Her voice sounded genuinely shocked.
I wanted to believe her.
I also knew that wanting something didn't make it true.
“Margaret is arranging an independent review.”
“Good.”
“Nina, until that review is complete, we're restricting certain approvals.”
Another silence.
Then she said, “You're right to do that.”
Her answer surprised me.
“You're not angry?”
“I'm terrified,” she whispered. “If someone used my account, I need to know. And if I made a mistake somewhere, I need to understand it.”
I remembered the years we'd worked together.
The nights spent preparing client presentations.
The lunch breaks when she'd talked about caring for her aging mother.
The day she'd cried in my office after her daughter received a college scholarship.
Nina wasn't just a name on a payroll.
She was part of the life I'd built.
And that made the uncertainty almost unbearable.
“I hope you're telling me the truth,” I said.
“So do I.”
After we disconnected, I stared at my phone.
Trust had once seemed simple.
Now it felt like something that could shatter in your hands.
That evening, I returned home and found Daniel waiting in the living room.
He was still wearing the expensive watch I'd given him for our seventh anniversary.
His hair was perfectly styled.
His expression was exhausted.
But not nearly as exhausted as mine.
“We need to talk,” he said.
I stopped near the doorway.
“Margaret has my position in writing.”
“I'm not talking about your attorney.”
“Then what?”
“Our marriage.”
I studied him.
For eight years, that word had meant partnership.
Now it sounded like a negotiation tactic.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Look, I know what happened at Natalie's wedding was awful.”
“Was it?”
He frowned.
“You know it was.”
“Then why did you let your mother do it?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“She gets carried away.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel, she seated your mistress beside you at your sister's wedding.”
“I know.”
“She publicly announced that Celeste made you happier than your wife.”
“I know.”
“And you did nothing.”
He looked away.
“Can we not keep replaying it?”
I felt something inside me harden.
“You don't get to decide when the consequences of your behavior become inconvenient.”
Daniel sat heavily on the couch.
For a moment, he looked like the man I'd married.
The man who used to bring me coffee during late-night work sessions.
The man who once drove six hours through a snowstorm because I'd been stranded after a conference.
I wondered when that man had disappeared.
Or whether I'd simply imagined him.
“Elise,” he said quietly, “I made a terrible mistake.”
“One mistake?”
He swallowed.
“Several.”
I waited.
He looked up.
“But I still love you.”
The words should have meant something.
Instead, they made me tired.
“Did you love me when you brought Celeste into our marriage?”
He flinched.
“It's complicated.”
“Did you love me when you helped your mother humiliate me?”
“Elise—”
“Did you love me when someone used my signature on financial documents?”
His expression changed.
He looked toward the hallway.
That tiny movement told me he was thinking about something other than our marriage.
“Mom handles the business arrangements,” he said.
“Then why is my company involved?”
“She said it was temporary.”
“What was temporary?”
“The financing.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel, you just admitted you knew.”
He stood.
“I didn't say that.”
“You said your mother told you the financing was temporary.”
He took a slow breath.
“You're twisting my words.”
“No. I'm listening to them.”
He walked toward the window.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he turned.
“What do you want, Elise?”
The question was almost absurd.
Eight years together.
A public affair.
Millions in questionable financial transactions.
And he was asking what I wanted.
“The truth,” I replied.
He shook his head.
“You always make everything about control.”
I felt a sharp, unexpected sadness.
“No, Daniel. I'm finally realizing how much control I've allowed other people to have over my life.”
His face tightened.
“Mom thinks we can still resolve this privately.”
I almost laughed.
“Your mother humiliated me in front of two hundred people. Apparently, privacy only matters when it protects her.”
He looked down.
“She's willing to offer you a settlement.”
My breathing stopped for a second.
“A settlement?”
“If you agree to stop investigating the family businesses.”
I stared at him.
“So now your mother's offering to pay me to stop asking questions?”
“It's not like that.”
“What is it like?”
Daniel didn't answer.
I understood something then.
He hadn't come home to save our marriage.
He'd come home to protect the financial arrangement that was unraveling around him.
“Tell Victoria I'm not interested,” I said.
He approached me.
“Elise, you're making a dangerous mistake.”
I met his eyes.
“Is that your opinion or your mother's message?”
His jaw tightened.
“Don't underestimate her.”
For the first time, I heard fear beneath his arrogance.
Daniel wasn't simply loyal to Victoria.
He was afraid of disappointing her.
Perhaps he'd been afraid his entire life.
But fear didn't excuse what he'd done.
I stepped aside and opened the front door.
“I think you should stay somewhere else tonight.”
“This is my home too.”
“I understand that. I'm asking you to give me space. Our attorneys can address the living arrangements.”
He studied me.
Then, without another word, he collected an overnight bag and left.
I watched his car disappear into the street.
The house became quiet again.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, I felt hollow.
Losing someone doesn't stop hurting simply because they deserve to be left.
On Sunday morning, Margaret called with encouraging news.
The bank had acknowledged the disputed transfer instructions.
Additional verification requirements were in place.
Our financial team had also identified other questionable transactions and preserved the available records.
But the investigation was growing.
There were more invoices.
More accounts.
More people whose names appeared where they shouldn't.
By Sunday evening, I was exhausted.
I ate dinner alone in the kitchen.
A bowl of soup.
A slice of bread.
The kind of meal that required no celebration.
Before going upstairs, I checked my phone.
There was one message from Natalie.
Mom knows you met Celeste.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
She's furious.
Then:
Please be careful tomorrow.
I didn't sleep much that night.
At 8:47 Monday morning, I entered the Meridian Bridge conference room.
My management team was already gathering.
Margaret sat beside me.
Nina looked pale.
We were preparing to explain the new financial controls when my communications director rushed through the door.
“Elise, we have a problem.”
She handed me her phone.
A Chicago business news website had published an article.
The headline accused Meridian Bridge of serious financial irregularities.
It suggested that I had personally authorized questionable transfers.
And it quoted an unnamed source describing me as emotionally unstable following a marital dispute.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Victoria hadn't managed to take the money that morning.
May you like
So she'd chosen another weapon.
She was going to destroy my reputation before I could expose what she'd done.
