Chapter 3 - The Audit Begins
That evening, I arrived home at our suburban house at 5:30 PM, exactly as I always did.
Julian was sitting in the living room, a glass of scotch in hand, watching financial news on the large flat-screen TV. When I walked in, he offered his signature, warm smile—the mask of the loving, attentive husband he had worn for a decade.
"Hey, honey," he said, rising to kiss my cheek. "How was work? You sounded tired on the phone this morning."
"It was busy," I lied smoothly, letting him wrap his arms around me. I didn't flinch. I let him smell my perfume, feeling the absolute coldness of my own heart against his chest. "Just wrapping up some quarter-end audits."
"You work too hard, Claire," he murmured, smoothing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Mom was saying last night how much she appreciates everything you do for the family."
Appreciates everything I do. The phrase burned in my mind like acid.
"She's very sweet," I replied with a pleasant smile. "Oh, by the way, Marta asked if I could help her clean up the quarterly receipts for the logistics firm this weekend."
Julian’s posture stiffened slightly, a tiny flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes before he masked it with a laugh. "Oh, you don't need to bother with that. Marta has an accountant."
"I know," I said innocently, dropping my coat onto the armchair. "But she mentioned at dinner that her bookkeeping was getting backed up. Since I'm an auditor, I figured I'd save you guys some money and do a quick pass over the ledgers."
Julian took a slow sip of his drink, examining my face. He was searching for any sign of suspicion, but my face was a blank, smiling wall.
"That's very generous of you, sweetie," he said finally. "I'll let Marta know."
Later that night, while Julian was in the shower, I pulled up my laptop and accessed our shared financial accounts.
Because Julian believed I had no interest in business affairs, he had used a shared cloud drive to store corporate tax filings for Bennett-Corvino Logistics. Within forty-five minutes of sifting through digital spreadsheets, I found what I was looking for.
Dummy vendor accounts.
Over the last eighteen months, small payments ranging from three to five thousand dollars had been routed from the logistics firm to an LLC registered in Delaware. The registered manager of that LLC was Helga Corvino—his mother.
They weren't just cheating on me; Julian and Marta were actively embezzling funds from their corporate partners to finance their family's private lifestyle, including Sophie’s apartment and legal retainers.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from an encrypted messaging app I had set up with Sophie that afternoon.
Sophie: He just texted me. He said he's coming over to my apartment tomorrow night at 8 PM. He told me to make sure the legal paperwork is ready for my signature.
I typed back immediately.
Claire: Tell him you'll sign it. Let him think he’s won. I'm setting up the trap for Thursday.
May you like
I closed the laptop, placed it back in my bag, and slid into bed next to my husband.
When he reached out in his sleep to pull me close, I lay entirely still, counting down the days until the entire corrupt house of cards came crashing down on his head.
