Chapter 5
The next week was a blur of fear and fury.
Someone slashed all four tires on my car in the firm’s parking garage.
My penthouse lobby was vandalized with spray paint: LIAR. GOLD DIGGER. CRAZY BITCH.
I received three more anonymous threats, all sent from burner phones.
The tabloids got worse.
Someone leaked old medical records from five years ago—records of me going to therapy after a miscarriage I’d had when Brandon and I were first married.
They twisted it into proof I was mentally unstable.
That I’d never recovered.
That I was capable of anything.
My parents called again, begging me to drop the case.
To settle with Brandon.
To apologize and make it all go away.
“For the family,” my mom said, crying. “We can’t take this anymore. Our friends are talking. Your father’s business is suffering.”
I hung up on her.
I didn’t have time for people who only loved me when it was convenient.
But Mia?
Mia showed up at my penthouse three days after the tire slashing, suitcase in hand, eyes red.
She’d watched the video.
She’d read the audit.
She’d seen the texts Lila had provided.
And she was furious.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, throwing her arms around me and crying into my shoulder. “I can’t believe I ever doubted you. I can’t believe Mom and Dad are choosing those monsters over their own daughter. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll answer your emails. I’ll do whatever you need. Just let me stay and help.”
I hugged her back so tight I thought my ribs might break.
For the first time since this whole nightmare started, I didn’t feel alone.
“Of course you can stay,” I said. “I need you. More than you know.”
Having Mia there changed everything.
She made me eat when I wanted to work through dinner.
She made me sleep when I wanted to stay up all night going over evidence.
She answered every nasty comment on every news article, defending me to strangers who didn’t know the truth.
And when Grace called with bad news two weeks later?
Mia was the one who held my hand while I processed it.
“The judge just denied our motion to freeze their offshore accounts,” Grace said, her voice tight. “Their lawyer argued that the funds are for ‘legitimate business purposes.’ Brandon’s family has ties to the judge. It’s not right, but it’s not surprising. They could move that money any day now. Once it’s gone, we’ll never get it back.”
I paced my office, my heart racing.
Six million dollars still sitting in those Cayman accounts.
If Brandon and Margaret got it out?
They’d flee the country.
They’d disappear to some island with no extradition treaty.
They’d live the rest of their lives rich and free, while I was left to clean up their mess.
“There’s another way,” Lila said from the couch.
She’d been staying with me for the past week, the safe house compromised after a close call with a private investigator Brandon had hired.
She was quiet most days, scared to leave the apartment.
But now she was leaning forward, eyes bright.
“Brandon has a safe in the closet of the Midtown penthouse,” she said. “I’ve seen him open it a hundred times. The combination is his birthday backwards. Inside there’s physical paperwork for all the offshore accounts. Signed transfer forms. Originals, not copies. If we can get those? We can prove exactly where the money is. We can get a new judge to sign the freeze order before they can move a dollar.”
Grace shook her head.
“We can’t just break in,” she said. “That’s illegal. Any evidence we found would be thrown out of court. Brandon’s lawyers would have a field day.”
“We don’t have to break in,” I said, an idea forming. “Lila, your name is still on the penthouse lease, right? Brandon put you on it to make it look legitimate.”
Lila nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “I never took my name off. I was too scared to ask.”
“Then you have every legal right to be there,” I said. “You can go in anytime you want. You can open any closet, any safe, any drawer. It’s your home too. Anything you find in plain sight? Or in a safe you have the combination to? That’s completely admissible.”
Grace thought for a second, then nodded slowly.
“It’s risky,” she said. “If Brandon is there? If he catches you? We have no idea what he’s capable of.”
“I’ll go with her,” I said.
Mia stood up immediately.
“I’m coming too,” she said. “No way I’m letting you two go alone. I took three years of kickboxing. I can take Brandon if I have to.”
I looked at the three of them.
Grace, my rock.
Lila, the girl who’d found her courage.
Mia, my sister, who’d come back to me when I needed her most.
For the first time in my life, I had a team.
A real family.
Not the fake, cruel one I’d married into.
But people who loved me.
People who would fight beside me.
“Okay,” I said. “We go tomorrow morning. Brandon has a court hearing at 9 a.m. Margaret always goes with him. They’ll be gone until at least noon. That gives us three hours. We get in, we get the paperwork, we get out. No heroics. No detours. Just in and out.”
No one argued.
That night, I lay in bed, Mia asleep on the couch in the living room, Lila in the guest room.
I thought of Brandon and Margaret.
Of how they’d spent five years using me, lying to me, planning to destroy me.
I thought of the twelve million dollars.
Of the life I could have had if I’d never met Brandon Hawthorne.
But then I thought of Mia’s laugh.
Of Grace’s steady voice.
Of Lila’s quiet courage.
And I realized something.
If I’d never married Brandon?
I never would have found my real family.
I never would have learned how strong I really was.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, we’d get the evidence we needed.
Tomorrow, we’d take another step toward ending this.
May you like
And this time?
We wouldn’t lose.
