Chapter 7 - THE MISTRESS’S PRICE
The next morning,
the news broke.
"CEO of Parker & Associates Under Federal Investigation."
The headline was splashed across every local news site.
The photo they used was from the gala—Levi looking smug in his tuxedo.
I spent the day at my lawyer’s office,
filing for divorce.
“It’s going to be messy,” my lawyer,
a sharp woman named Diane,
warned me.
“He’s going to fight for every cent, especially since the feds are freezing his assets.”
“Let him fight,” I said.
“I’m not asking for a settlement. I’m asking for an annulment based on fraud.”
We were interrupted by a call from the District Attorney’s office.
Claire had turned.
She had spent the night giving a full statement in exchange for immunity.
She had handed over a second ledger,
one I didn't even know existed.
It contained proof of bribes to local politicians and city planners.
Levi wasn't just stealing from the firm; he was corrupting the entire city.
By afternoon,
the police arrived at the house.
I watched from a distance as they led Levi out in handcuffs.
He wasn't wearing a tuxedo anymore.
He looked small,
his expensive suit wrinkled,
his face a mask of disbelief.
He looked around the crowd of reporters,
searching for me.
When he finally saw me standing by my car,
he stopped.
The cameras caught the moment.
I didn't wave.
I didn't cry.
I simply stood there,
witnessing his downfall.
“Hannah!” he screamed as they pushed him into the back of the cruiser.
“You did this! You destroyed us!”
I watched the car drive away,
the sirens fading into the distance.
I drove to the house one last time.
The "For Sale" sign was already being hammered into the lawn by the bank's representatives.
I walked through the empty rooms,
gathering the few things that were actually mine.
My grandmother’s clock.
My degree from the university.
A box of old photos from before the money changed him.
I found Claire’s perfume on the vanity in the master bedroom.
I didn't throw it away.
I left it there,
a final monument to his choices.
As I was leaving,
I saw a small note tucked into the frame of the wedding photo in the hall.
I pulled it out.
It was in Levi’s handwriting,
dated a week ago.
"Don't forget to move the marketing funds by Friday. Hannah is getting suspicious."
He had known I was onto him.
He had planned to dispose of me even before the gala.
The gala wasn't a fresh start; it was a goodbye party he forgot to tell me about.
I dropped the note on the floor and walked out the front door.
May you like
I didn't lock it.
There was nothing left to protect.
