Chapter 8 - Vanessa Realized Marcus Had Started TalkingMarcus stopped answering Vanessa.
That told her everything.
He had always answered.
Even angry.
Even frightened.
The first missed call irritated her.
The fourth terrified her.
She drove to his apartment.
He wasn’t there.
She used the key he had given her months earlier.
It no longer worked.
Vanessa stood in the hallway staring at the lock.
Changed.
She called.
Voicemail.
Then texted:
WE NEED TO TALK.
Nothing.
At home, Daniel was still at work.
Vanessa went directly to his office.
His filing cabinet was locked.
It had never been locked before.
She tried the desk.
Same.
His home laptop required a hardware token she didn’t recognize.
Her stomach tightened.
Daniel had changed security.
Because of the transfer?
Or because of her?
She forced herself to think.
Marcus might simply be scared.
He could be meeting his own lawyer.
That was bad.
But not fatal.
Most of their communication was not explicit.
Marcus’s companies received the money.
Marcus created the documents.
Marcus prepared the invoice packet.
If he tried blaming her—
Vanessa had photos.
Videos.
She opened her hidden folder.
Then paused.
One photo was missing.
No.
She scrolled.
The video of Marcus in Daniel’s office remained.
Invoice photo remained.
The Vela trust draft remained.
But an audio file she had saved disappeared.
Vanessa checked cloud storage.
Nothing.
She suddenly remembered Marcus using her phone in the hotel two weeks earlier.
He had said he was ordering food.
Had he accessed the folder?
Her chest tightened.
At 6:20 p.m., Daniel came home.
Vanessa was waiting with dinner.
He looked surprised.
“You cooked?”
“I can cook.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
“You implied it.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
She watched him carefully.
“How’s the company issue?”
“Complicated.”
“Did they find whoever did it?”
“Maybe.”
Her fork stopped.
“Maybe?”
“We’re tracing.”
“Anyone you know?”
Daniel looked directly at her.
“Possibly.”
Silence.
Vanessa smiled.
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s accounting.”
“Accounting is rarely ominous.”
“You’d be surprised.”
She took a sip of wine.
“Marcus called me today.”
Daniel’s face did not change.
It was a lie.
She wanted to see the reaction.
“Marcus?”
“The consultant from the gala.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Right.”
“He asked if we were still considering selling the mansion.”
“Why would he ask that?”
“Because he works in property.”
“Does he?”
Vanessa felt something wrong in the wording.
“Yes.”
Daniel cut his steak.
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“His companies seem to work in a lot of things.”
Her pulse changed.
“What companies?”
Daniel looked up.
“Do you know?”
Trap.
Vanessa laughed.
“No.”
“You brought him up.”
“Because he called.”
“What company did he call from?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Daniel nodded.
“Then I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Her appetite disappeared.
After dinner, she went upstairs.
Her phone buzzed.
Finally.
Marcus.
One message.
DO NOT CONTACT ME DIRECTLY AGAIN.
Vanessa stared.
Then another.
MY ATTORNEY WILL HANDLE ANY BUSINESS MATTERS.
Attorney.
Her body went cold.
She called anyway.
Rejected.
Then Daniel entered the bedroom.
She turned so quickly the phone almost fell.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
He removed his tie.
“Who are you trying to reach?”
“Nobody.”
Daniel nodded.
There it was again.
Calm.
Vanessa hated it now.
“Daniel.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you angry with me?”
He looked genuinely puzzled.
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve been strange.”
“So have you.”
Her mouth went dry.
“How?”
“You ask if I’m angry when I haven’t accused you of anything.”
“That usually means someone feels guilty.”
Vanessa stared.
He smiled slightly.
“Relax.”
“Work is bad.”
“That’s all.”
He walked toward the bathroom.
Again.
That door.
Vanessa’s heartbeat jumped even though Marcus wasn’t there.
Daniel stopped with his hand on the knob.
Then looked over his shoulder.
“Funny.”
“What?”
“I keep feeling like this door makes you nervous.”
Her face stayed still.
“You’re being weird.”
“Probably.”
He entered.
Vanessa stood frozen.
Inside, Daniel turned on the faucet but did not shower.
He listened.
A few seconds later, Vanessa left the bedroom.
He opened the bathroom door quietly.
Followed.
She went into the upstairs sitting room.
Closed the door.
Daniel did not approach.
He returned to the bedroom.
He didn’t need to hear the call.
Company counsel already had access to the legal side.
Personal spying would only muddy things.
But Vanessa’s call was not to Marcus.
It was to someone named Rebecca Sloan.
A divorce attorney.
Vanessa spoke quickly.
“I think he knows something.”
Rebecca answered:
“About the affair?”
“Maybe.”
“And the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do not move anything else.”
“I need to protect myself.”
“Vanessa.”
“Listen to me.”
“If Daniel freezes everything, I have nothing.”
“You have separate funds and contractual rights.”
“Not enough.”
“That is not a legal emergency.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“I need to file first.”
“On what grounds?”
“No-fault.”
“Then file.”
“But I need exclusive use of the house.”
“That requires a basis.”
“I live here.”
“So does he.”
Vanessa’s jaw tightened.
“What if I tell the court he controls the finances?”
“If true, we document it.”
“What if I say I’m afraid he’ll cut me off?”
Rebecca became silent.
“Is that true?”
Vanessa stared at the wall.
“He could.”
“That is not the same as he has.”
Vanessa hated cautious lawyers.
“I need leverage.”
Rebecca’s voice cooled.
“I represent you in a divorce.”
“I do not manufacture leverage.”
The call ended badly.
Vanessa sat alone.
For the first time, she felt Marcus slipping away.
Daniel closing in.
And her own lawyer refusing to convert fear into evidence.
She opened the hidden folder again.
Marcus’s photographs.
Daniel’s signatures.
The trust drafts.
Then she found something she had forgotten.
A photograph of Daniel’s estate memo.
A line about the mansion.
PROPOSED CHARITABLE RESIDUAL GIFT IF NO DESCENDANTS.
Vanessa stared.
If Daniel died without children, after a lifetime occupancy arrangement for Vanessa, the mansion might eventually go to a foundation.
Not her heirs.
Not hers.
Never hers.
Her resentment hardened.
Then a new message appeared.
Unknown number.
MARCUS HAS MADE CONTACT WITH DANIEL’S COUNSEL.
Vanessa froze.
Who sent it?
She replied:
WHO IS THIS?
No answer.
Then another message.
IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE GAVE THEM, COME ALONE TOMORROW.
An address followed.
Vanessa stared.
Someone knew about Marcus.
Someone knew about Daniel’s counsel.
May you like
Someone was watching the fracture from outside.
For the first time since the affair began, Vanessa realized she might not be the only person collecting leverage.
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