Richard continues, precise. “Additionally, an internal audit has revealed misuse of company assets, including unauthorized expenditures and acquisition of property belonging to Madam Whitman.”
His eyes settle briefly on Vanessa’s necklace.
Vanessa clutches it instinctively.
I step closer.
“Vanessa,” I say quietly, “that necklace has been in my family for three generations.”
Her smile trembles. “Victor told me it was a gift.”
Victor whirls on her. “Don’t start—”
Then he turns on me. “You planned this. You humiliated me.”
I meet his gaze.
“You humiliated yourself,” I say calmly. “I just stopped shielding you.”
“You owe me loyalty,” he snaps. “You’re my wife.”
Richard’s voice cuts in. “She owes you nothing.”
I raise a hand slightly. “This part is mine.”
I look at Victor—really look at him. The man I met in Boston years ago feels distant, like someone wearing his face.
“For two years,” I say quietly, “I watched you change. I excused it as pressure. Ambition.”
My eyes flick briefly to the necklace.
“Then you stole from me. Not just money. Legacy.”
“It was sitting in your drawer!” he fires back. “You weren’t using it.”
The audacity clarifies everything.