I looked back at Bennett. “No,” I said, my voice firm. “Stop those transactions immediately. Freeze all accounts he can access—credit, debit, every one of them.”
Bennett nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And Bennett,” I added, quieter now, steadier, “any future financial requests from him—deny them. No exceptions.”
“Yes, Miss Veronica.”
After he left, I sank into silence, staring at my frozen laptop screen. The weight of betrayal pressed down on me. My life, built on trust and loyalty, now felt like a cruel joke.
Minutes later, my phone rang. Sebastian’s name flashed across the screen. My chest tightened. That name used to make me smile. Now it churned my stomach.
I let it ring once, twice, then hit decline and powered the phone off. Enough. I wouldn’t let him manipulate me with words or empty apologies ever again.
By the time I reached home that evening, the air felt heavy. The lights were on, and I could hear someone pacing in the living room.
Sebastian.
He stood by the couch, phone in one hand, a half-empty glass of whiskey in the other. His expression twisted the moment he saw me.
“You froze my accounts?” he demanded.
I dropped my bag on the table. “Yes.”