My Husband’s Mistress Received a Gift With My Name on It
Chapter 8
THEME: FONT SIZE: 18pxMaybe there was no legal master plan.
Maybe he was simply a coward who wanted the wife he had betrayed to perform the ending so he could tell himself she had chosen it.
Either way, I had refused.
"I won't discuss this again without my attorney," I said.
"Don't bring lawyers into our marriage."
"You brought fraud into it."
"Vivian."
I hung up.
My hands shook for several minutes afterward.
But I had the answer.
Not all of it.
Enough.
Preston had lost money.
A great deal of money.
Instead of telling me, he had hidden the losses.
Then borrowed under my name.
When that wasn't enough, he had borrowed again.
Sloane had come later.
She wasn't the cause of his collapse.
She was proof of how completely he believed consequences belonged to other people.
That afternoon, Lena and I obtained more account records.
The six-hundred-thousand-dollar figure was roughly accurate.
For once, Preston had not lied.
He had made a series of aggressive private investments through P.W. Strategic Holdings.
Several failed.
One became nearly worthless.
He used joint savings to cover the losses.
Then credit.
Then more credit.
When the lenders became less generous to him personally, applications began appearing under my name.
There were transactions supporting the affair, but most of the missing money had gone into Preston's attempt to hide the fact that he had already lost the first amount.
That was the darker truth.
He had not stolen to impress Sloane.
He had stolen because he could not tolerate being seen as a failure.
Sloane was simply another stage on which he could keep pretending.
Two days later, I received a call from Graham.
I nearly ignored it.
Then I answered.
"Vivian."
His voice sounded exhausted.
"What do you want?"
"I owe you an apology."
"Yes."
That seemed to surprise him.
Good.
"I'm sorry about Christmas."
I stared out the hotel window.
"Which part?"
"All of it."
"Did you know about Sloane?"
Silence.
"Yes."
My throat tightened despite everything.
"How long?"
"Maybe four months."
"And you said nothing."
"I told Preston to tell you."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Then you didn't tell Preston to tell me because you cared whether I knew. You told him because his affair made you uncomfortable."
He took that without defending himself.
After a moment, he said, "That's fair."
"No, Graham. It isn't."
Another silence.
"You're right."
I sat on the edge of the bed.
"Did your parents know?"
"Yes."
Of course.
Christmas had already answered that question.
Still, hearing it hurt.
"My mother thought he'd end things cleanly after the holidays."
I laughed.
"Cleanly."
"I know."
"No, I don't think you do."
He sighed.
"There's something else."
My body went still.
"What?"
"Preston came to the office yesterday."
"So?"
"He and Dad had a fight."
"About Sloane?"
"No."
I sat straighter.
"About what?"
"Money."
Every nerve in my body sharpened.
"What money?"
"I don't know exactly. But Dad was furious. I heard him ask Preston why his personal company had been moving cash through accounts connected to family clients."
I stood.
"Graham, listen to me carefully. Do not touch anything. Do not look for anything. Do not warn Preston."
"Why?"
"Because if he's done something with client money, this is bigger than our marriage."
"I don't think Dad understands the whole thing."
"Neither do I."
"Vivian..."
"What?"
"I know this doesn't mean much now."
"Probably not."
"But Christmas..."
He stopped.
When he continued, his voice was quiet.
"I should have stopped her from opening that box."
I looked at the Bellamy & Rowe receipt lying beside my laptop.
"No," I said.
"I'm glad you didn't."
He sounded confused.
"Why?"
"Because that box was the first honest thing Preston gave me in more than a year."
I ended the call.
Then I called Lena.
Because the story I thought I had finally understood had just opened one more door.
And behind it was Whitmore Capital.
PART 4: THE FAMILY THAT WATCHED
The next three days moved fast.
Much faster than the first eight years of my marriage.
That is one of the cruel things about betrayal.
Trust takes years to build.
Destruction needs an afternoon.
Lena brought in a forensic accountant named Marcus Vale to review the records we legally had access to.
We were careful.
Pain does not give you permission to break laws.
Neither does being right.
So we followed only the accounts carrying my name, our joint accounts, and documents provided by institutions after I disputed the fraudulent debt.
That was enough.
Preston's transfers told a story even when he refused to.
Money had moved from the personal loan in my name into P.W. Strategic Holdings.
From there, some had been invested.
May you like
Some covered previous obligations.
And several transfers had gone to Whitmore Capital accounts before later being moved again.
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