Chapter 3 - THE DEMOLITION OF THE LIE
Forty-eight hours after I left Lake Forest, the real world began to crash down on Dominic Moretti.
He sat behind his massive mahogany desk at Moretti & Associates in downtown Chicago, staring at a stack of unread corporate emails. Across from him sat his chief legal counsel and long-time family friend, Harrison Vance, who was reviewing the divorce petition with a look of profound disbelief.
“She walked away from everything, Dominic,” Harrison said, setting his glasses down on the desk. “No spousal support. No claim on the Lake Forest estate. No demand for a percentage of your partnership shares. She literally signed a complete waiver of financial interest.”
Dominic rubbed his temples, his face pale and dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes. He hadn't slept in two days. “She’s emotional, Harrison. She went to the hospital, she heard something out of context about Vanessa, and she panicked. Find out where she’s staying. I’ll go pick her up.”
Harrison let out a heavy sigh. “I don't think you understand. This wasn't drafted on a napkin. This petition was filed by Marcus Vance’s team at Sidley Austin. It’s ironclad. And she severed her phone line. Her managing partner at her architecture firm told my investigator that Emma requested an indefinite leave of absence and cleared out her desk yesterday morning.”
Dominic stood up so fast his leather executive chair slammed into the glass wall behind him. “She can’t just leave! Who is taking care of my mother? The private nurses don't know her medication routine! The domestic staff at the house don't know how to run the estate without her instructions!”
“Dominic,” Harrison said quietly, leaning forward. “Is it true?”
Dominic froze. “Is what true?”
“The rumor circulating through the firm,” Harrison said, his voice dropping into a cold, professional register. “That you’ve been pretending to be deaf at home for three years. That your mother has been hosting Vanessa Reed at the family estate in Lake Geneva. And that Vanessa is pregnant.”
Dominic’s jaw clenched tightly. “Vanessa’s pregnancy is a private matter. She had complications on Tuesday, she was bleeding, I had to be there—”
“Vanessa Reed is the daughter of Arthur Reed, your primary institutional investor!” Harrison snapped, standing up to face him. “If the board finds out that you’ve been conducting an affair with an investor’s daughter while keeping your wife isolated under the pretense of a severe physical disability, the reputational fallout will destroy this firm!”
Before Dominic could respond, his office door swung open without a knock.
Margaret Moretti marched into the room, leaning heavily on her silver-topped cane, her face flushed with fury. Behind her trailed a visibly distressed Vanessa, wearing a loose-fitting designer dress and holding a handkerchief.
“Dominic!” Margaret demanded, slamming her cane against the hardwood floor. “What is the meaning of this?! The catering company for the symphony gala just called me! They said the deposit check bounced because the primary administrative account was closed!”
Dominic stared at his mother. “What account?”
“The household operating account!” Margaret shrieked. “The one Emma manages! I went to the pharmacy this morning to pick up my blood pressure medication, and the pharmacist told me the prescription coverage was canceled because the primary subscriber—Emma—removed my name from her corporate policy!”
Dominic turned slowly to Harrison. “Can she do that?”
“The health insurance was through Emma’s firm, Dominic,” Harrison explained with a look of mounting exasperation. “She was the senior employee. You were covered under her executive spousal rider, and your mother was listed as an adult dependent under an exception Emma negotiated three years ago. When she resigned her position on Wednesday, the policy automatically terminated.”
Vanessa let out a small, dramatic sob, stepping toward Dominic and reaching for his arm. “Dominic... the stress is terrible for the baby. Can’t you just call Emma and tell her to stop being so cruel? She’s doing this on purpose to hurt us!”
Dominic looked down at Vanessa’s hand on his sleeve. For five years, he had viewed Emma as a quiet, static constant—a woman who existed in the background of his life, keeping his world running smoothly without ever demanding anything in return. He had believed he was the brilliant strategist, the master of his domain, controlling every variable while giving his wife tiny crumbs of affection.
Now, within forty-eight hours of her absence, his mother’s medical care was in chaos, his household staff was resigning due to lack of direction, his firm’s reputation was hanging by a thread, and his mistress was complaining about catered galas.
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He pulled his arm away from Vanessa’s grip, his voice cold and sharp. “She isn't doing this to hurt us, Vanessa. She doesn't care enough about us to hurt us anymore.”
Dominic grabbed his coat from the rack, ignoring his mother’s shouting and Vanessa’s tears, and strode out of the corner office. He needed to find his wife. And for the first time in his life, he realized he didn't even know where she went when she was upset.
