Chapter 3: The Ghost in the Ledger
By midnight, the mansion was a tomb. Chloe paced the living room, her expensive designer dress feeling like a costume. She realized their entire life—the house, the cars, the status—was built on a foundation of digital quicksand.
She opened the wall safe in the study, expecting to find the emergency cash reserves, but the safe was empty. In its place sat a single, plain manila folder. She ripped it open.
Inside weren't just bank statements. They were copies of fraudulent tax returns, falsified property deeds, and signatures that looked exactly like David’s, but were dated for years before they had even met.
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"She’s been building this case since before we married," Chloe realized, the blood draining from her face. "She wasn't raising a son; she was fattening a pig for the slaughter."
David walked in, holding a glass of scotch he didn't drink. "She isn't coming back to argue, Chloe. She’s coming back with the District Attorney. We’ve been using a front company that she owns to launder money, and she just signed the paperwork turning us over as the primary suspects."
