P2:
At 3:15 a.m., I finally stood up from the bed. The house was completely silent now, the kind of silence that comes after a storm has passed. Victor’s side of the closet was half empty — expensive suits gone, his favorite watches missing, even the custom-made leather shoes I bought him for our 10th anniversary.
He really thought he had won.
I walked downstairs to the kitchen, still wearing my silk robe, and opened my laptop. The screen lit up with the email my lawyer had sent at 11:47 p.m. last night — “All documents received and filed. Accounts frozen at 6:00 a.m. EST. Arrest warrant in process.”
I smiled.
Victor had spent months planning his “perfect escape.” He thought he was clever. He had moved money into offshore accounts, changed the beneficiary on his life insurance, and even convinced Olivia that they would live like royalty in Europe.
What he didn’t know was that I had been three steps ahead of him for half a year.
