Chapter 2 - The AccountDaniel met me at his office that afternoon.
He had already frozen the investment account.
No money had left.
But the attempted transfer had exposed something else.
A second document.
A beneficiary change.
My father had established the account so that, upon my death, the remaining funds would pass to a charitable foundation.
Someone had tried to change the beneficiary.
To Kayla Brooks.
I stared at the screen.
“Kayla?”
Daniel nodded.
“Derek couldn't receive the money directly without triggering additional scrutiny.”
“So he used her.”
“That's what it looks like.”
I leaned back.
The betrayal felt different now.
It wasn't simply an affair.
It wasn't even about money.
They had planned to erase me.
“If I had signed that power of attorney voluntarily,” I said, “what would have happened?”
“They could have liquidated the account.”
“And transferred the money?”
“Eventually.”
I swallowed.
“How long?”
“Probably days.”
I looked at Daniel.
“So the hair…”
“Was a distraction.”
“And the turtle?”
“Humiliation.”
“To make me look unstable.”
Daniel nodded.
“If you complained afterward, they could say you were emotionally disturbed.”
I stared at the floor.
Derek had been telling me I was crazy for months.
He had been preparing a narrative.
I suddenly remembered a dinner six weeks earlier.
Derek had joked in front of friends:
“Rachel's been under a lot of stress lately.”
Everyone laughed.
I had laughed too.
Now I understood.
He had been planting the idea.
Daniel opened another file.
“There's more.”
He showed me bank statements.
Payments to Kayla.
Rent.
Tuition.
A luxury apartment.
A car.
Travel.
Designer clothing.
Hotel rooms.
Over three years, more than $190,000.
My money.
My father's money.
Our household account.
“Some of these were disguised as business expenses,” Daniel explained.
I stared at the numbers.
“How did I not see this?”
“You trusted him.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I corrected myself.
“I trusted myself to know him.”
Daniel didn't respond.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Derek.
Please come home. We need to talk.
I showed Daniel.
He smiled faintly.
“Don't answer.”
“Why?”
“Because we're about to learn whether he knows the account was frozen.”
Twenty minutes later, another message arrived.
I know you spoke to Daniel.
My heart began pounding.
Daniel took a screenshot.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“He knows the account was frozen.”
“How?”
“Because whoever is behind the transfer received the bank's notification.”
I stared at him.
“Then they know we're onto them.”
Daniel nodded.
“We need to move quickly.”
“What's the plan?”
“Divorce.”
I blinked.
“That simple?”
“No.”
He closed the file.
“It's going to be very complicated.”
That evening, I went home.
Not because I trusted Derek.
Because Daniel wanted me to.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Derek stood in the kitchen.
He looked exhausted.
“Rachel.”
I removed my coat.
“Derek.”
He stared at my shaved head.
For the first time, I saw something resembling guilt.
“You look…”
“Different?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
I sat down.
“Tell me the truth.”
He looked away.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
He swallowed.
“I love you.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“I made mistakes.”
“What kind?”
He didn't answer.
I waited.
Finally, he said:
“Kayla and I have been seeing each other.”
I stared at him.
“I know.”
His face changed.
“But it wasn't supposed to become serious.”
I almost laughed.
“You shaved my head.”
“I didn't.”
“You stood there.”
“I didn't stop her.”
“That counts.”
He looked down.
Then he whispered:
“I need your help.”
There it was.
Not remorse.
Need.
“What do you need?”
“Money.”
May you like
I smiled.
“Of course you do.”
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