On my first day as Chief Executive Officer of Montalvo Global, my husband’s secretary looked me up and down, blocked the executive elevator with her arm, and sneered, “Interns use the service elevator.”

Alexander collapsed onto the sofa, clutching his head in his hands, staring blankly at the shattered glass on the floor.

“She... she told me she loved me,” he muttered, sounding like a broken child. “She told me you were cold... that you only cared about business... that she wanted to take care of me.”

“She took care of your bank accounts,” I said, leaning against the kitchen island. “Forensic accounting traced three million dollars transferred from Montalvo Global’s capital expenditure account into CR Management Holdings over the last fourteen months. Where is she right now, Alexander?”

Alexander slowly raised his head. “I don't know. After she was escorted out of the office, she came here to pack her things. She said she was going to her sister’s place in New Jersey. She took her passport and two duffel bags.”

“She’s not in New Jersey,” I said, pulling out my phone.

I tapped the screen and opened a live GPS tracking display provided by our private security team.

“Where is she?” Alexander asked, his voice trembling.

“JFK Airport,” I replied. “Terminal 4. She booked a one-way ticket to Dubai on the 11:30 PM flight. Paid for with a credit card issued to CR Management Holdings.”

Alexander stood up so fast he almost lost his balance. “She’s leaving the country?! With my money?!”

“With Montalvo Global’s money,” I corrected. “And unless you want to be named as her co-conspirator in a federal indictment tomorrow morning, you are going to walk out that door with me right now and speak to the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Alexander stared at me, his mouth trembling. For ten years, he had tried to project an image of absolute power and invincibility. Now, stripped of his title, his secretary, and his stolen wealth, he was nothing more than a terrified man facing the collapse of his entire life.

“Victoria...” he whispered, taking a hesitant step toward me, his eyes filled with tears. “Please... I made a mistake. A horrible, terrible mistake. I was lonely. I was stupid. Please, don't let them arrest me. I’m your husband.”

I looked at the man I had spent a decade supporting. I remembered the long nights I spent fixing his operational failures, the sacrifices I made to keep his company afloat, and the absolute disdain he and his secretary had shown me in the elevator just twelve hours ago.

“You stopped being my husband the moment you gave her that watch, Alexander,” I said, my voice cold, calm, and absolute. “Now, you’re just an officer of a corporation who committed fraud. Put on your coat.”

Ten minutes later, we were in the back of my private car heading toward the Federal Building in Manhattan.

In the passenger seat sat Detective Marcus Vance from the NYPD Financial Crimes Task Force, alongside two federal agents.

“Ms. Montalvo,” Detective Vance said, turning back to look at me. “Our team at JFK has located Ms. Reyes at the boarding gate. They are moving in to take her into custody right now.”