Chapter 3
The next morning, Richard tried charm.
He made coffee.
Badly.
He burned toast.
He put a mug in front of me and smiled like we were newlyweds again.
“I handled last night poorly.”
I kept reading the email from my lawyer, Mara Jensen.
Temporary restraining orders.
Asset freeze request.
Emergency business injunction.
Divorce filing.
Every word looked clean.
Every word looked like oxygen.
Richard sat across from me.
“I’m under pressure.”
I looked at him.
“From your jewelry budget?”
His mouth tightened.
“Her name is Madison.”
I hated that he said it gently.
Like introducing her made the betrayal civilized.
“She’s a marketing consultant.”
“Is that what we call mistresses now?”
“She understands the image side of things. She’s been helping me position the company.”
“Our company.”
He leaned back.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That bitterness.”
I laughed once.
It came out sharp.
“You bought her a twenty-eight-thousand-dollar necklace while I rationed groceries for your children.”
“Our children.”
“You remembered.”
His face darkened.
“You don’t know what I deal with. Investors expect a certain lifestyle. Appearances matter.”
“So you made me look poor so she could look expensive?”
He stood.
“I made sacrifices too.”
I looked around the kitchen.
The chipped mug.
The broken dishwasher.
The stack of coupons clipped beside my grocery list.
“Name one.”
He had no answer.
His phone rang.
He glanced down.
Madison.
He declined it too fast.
I stood and walked to the pantry.
“You should answer. Maybe she needs matching earrings.”
“Claire.”
I pulled out cereal and set it on the counter.
The kids would be down soon.
We were still parents, even inside wreckage.
Richard followed me.
“Listen to me carefully. If you try to take half the company, you’ll destroy everything.”
“I own half.”
“On paper.”
I turned.
“What did you say?”
His eyes flickered.
Then I understood.
A cold thread moved through me.
“What did you do?”
He smiled, but it was thin.
“I protected what I built.”
I stepped closer.
“You mean what we built.”
“You haven’t worked there in eight years.”
“I stayed home because you said the kids needed stability.”
“You chose that.”
“I chose our family.”
“You chose comfort.”
That almost knocked the air out of me.
Comfort.
The man who gave me two hundred dollars a week called my life comfort.
Then my phone buzzed.
Mara.
I answered.
“Claire,” she said, “I pulled the corporate filings again.”
My eyes stayed on Richard.
“And?”
“There’s a problem.”
Richard’s mouth curved.
I knew then he had been waiting for this.
Mara continued, “Someone filed an amended operating agreement eighteen months ago. It reduces your voting rights and transfers management control solely to Richard.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“I never signed that.”
“I know,” Mara said.
“Because the signature doesn’t match yours.”
Richard stopped smiling.
Mara’s voice lowered.
“Claire, this is no longer just divorce.”
I stared at my husband.
The father of my children.
The man who had made me count pennies while he stole my name from a company I helped create.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Forgery,” Mara said.
“And possibly fraud.”
Richard stepped toward me.
“Hang up.”
I did not move.
He reached for the phone.
Before he could touch it, Emma appeared in the doorway with Noah behind her.
“Dad,” she said quietly.
“Don’t.”
Richard froze.
Noah clutched his stuffed dinosaur to his chest.
His little face looked confused and frightened.
That was the moment Richard made his second mistake.
He looked at our children and said, “Your mother is trying to ruin us.”
Emma’s face changed.
May you like
“No,” she whispered.
“She’s trying to stop you.”
