Chapter 5 - The VendorThe company was called Vale Strategic Interiors.
Helena owned forty percent.
Monica owned another ten percent through a family holding company.
Adrian had never known.
Mercer Development had paid Vale Strategic Interiors $684,000 over eighteen months.
Some payments were legitimate.
The company had provided furnishings for two luxury developments.
But Adrian’s CFO, Curtis Wynn, had found inflated consulting charges layered onto invoices.
$18,000.
$27,500.
$42,000.
Small enough to disappear inside projects worth tens of millions.
Together, questionable fees totaled approximately $193,000.
“Who approved them?” Adrian asked.
Curtis hesitated.
“Graham Pierce.”
The board member.
Of course.
Rebecca joined the meeting.
“Do not call it theft yet.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Why does every lawyer love ruining perfectly good anger?”
“Because anger is not an audit.”
Curtis almost smiled.
They brought in an outside forensic accounting firm.
Adrian recused himself from investigative decisions involving Monica’s family.
The board formed a special committee.
It was exactly the kind of governance process Helena had apparently hoped to weaken.
When Monica learned, she panicked.
“You’re investigating my mother?”
“I’m investigating company payments.”
“She will think I betrayed her.”
Adrian stared.
“What about me?”
Monica said nothing.
“What about Eli?”
Her face changed.
“Stop using him every time we argue.”
Adrian almost could not speak.
“Using him?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain.”
Monica paced.
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“You threw a toddler into garbage.”
“I know!”
It was the first time she raised her voice about what she had done.
Eli, playing with blocks in the next room under Rosa’s supervision, startled.
Adrian immediately lowered his voice.
“Not here.”
Monica looked toward the doorway.
Something flickered in her face.
Shame.
Maybe.
They moved into Adrian’s study.
Monica sat.
“I don’t know why I did it.”
“Yes, you do.”
She stared.
“You were angry at him.”
“No.”
“You were angry at me.”
Monica looked down.
“You were angry at Natalie.”
Her eyes filled.
“And you had a two-year-old in your arms who trusted you.”
Monica covered her face.
For the first time, Adrian saw something besides defensiveness.
“I hated that he called me Mommy.”
Adrian felt the sentence like a punch.
“You encouraged it.”
“I thought I wanted it.”
“What changed?”
“He started doing things she told me I’d done.”
“Who?”
“Your sister sent that video.”
Adrian frowned.
“My sister?”
“Last Christmas. Eli laughed exactly like Natalie.”
Adrian remembered.
His sister had said, He has his mom’s laugh.
It had made Adrian cry.
Apparently it had done something else to Monica.
“I felt like I was raising her ghost.”
“That is not Eli’s fault.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Monica cried silently.
“I wanted one thing that was mine.”
“You had me.”
“That wasn’t enough.”
Adrian sat back.
There it was.
Not money alone.
Identity.
Monica had entered a family with history.
Natalie.
Eli.
Mercer Development.
The mansion.
Adrian’s parents.
She had mistaken not originating those things for not belonging.
Helena had fed the wound.
Your husband’s first family will always come before you.
You need your own power.
You need assets in your own name.
And Monica had listened.
That explained the postnup.
It did not explain away the trash bin.
Adrian said, “I need you to leave the house.”
Monica looked up.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you divorcing me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because twenty-four hours ago I thought my wife loved my son.”
Monica flinched.
Adrian continued.
“You are not staying here while I figure out whether he is safe around you.”
Her tears intensified.
“I would never seriously hurt him.”
“He didn’t know that.”
Monica closed her eyes.
“He was screaming for you to pick him up.”
“I know.”
“You stood there.”
“I know.”
“Your mother defended it.”
Monica whispered, “I know.”
For the first time, those words sounded different.
Not defensive.
Heavy.
Then Adrian’s phone rang.
Curtis.
“We found another payment stream.”
“How much?”
“Just over four hundred thousand.”
“To Helena?”
“Not directly.”
“Where?”
“A consulting firm called North Vale Advisory.”
Adrian frowned.
“Who owns it?”
Curtis answered.
“On paper, Monica.”
Adrian slowly looked at his wife.
Monica’s face went blank.
“What is North Vale Advisory?”
May you like
She whispered:
“I’ve never heard of it.”
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