Margaret froze. Ethan’s confidence vanished.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, but the certainty in his voice was gone.
For six months, they thought I wasn’t paying attention. That I was too busy working long hours to notice inconsistencies.
But you don’t lie about money to someone who lives and breathes financial analysis.
“I’m talking about the audit I conducted,” I said.
It had started during tax season. I noticed recurring transfers—large ones—leaving our joint account every month. Ethan labeled them as investment contributions.
They weren’t.
They were going to an LLC.
Oceanview Holdings.
I investigated.
The company owned a luxury beachfront condo in Miami worth over three million dollars.
Registered owners?
Ethan and Margaret.
He had been siphoning money from our accounts—my money—to fund a secret property.
But that wasn’t even the worst part.
“You forgot something,” I said, opening the folder. “Our old iPad is still synced to your account.”
Ethan’s face drained of color.
I placed printed screenshots on the counter—messages between him and his mother.
Margaret’s hands trembled as she read:
“Don’t push Rachel too hard. Wait until her bonus clears, then take the $12K.”
She stepped back.