Chapter 2 - THE EMPTY PARKING SPACE
Dominic called me seventeen times.
I answered the eighteenth.
“Where the hell is my car?”
I was sitting in the guest room of my father’s Manhattan residence while Leo slept beside me.
My incision had been checked by a private-duty nurse.
For the first time all day, I wasn’t shaking.
“Your car?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“That SUV belongs to me.”
“Don’t start this.”
“I didn’t.”
His breathing changed.
Someone was talking behind him.
Victoria.
“That ridiculous girl is doing this for attention.”
I closed my eyes.
“Is your mother there?”
“Obviously.”
“Good. Put me on speaker.”
There was a pause.
Then Dominic said, “You already are.”
Perfect.
“The SUV was purchased before our marriage,” I said. “It is titled solely in my name. You do not have permission to drive it anymore.”
Victoria laughed.
“You’re acting insane because Dominic took me to lunch?”
“No. I’m acting sane because Dominic left his five-day-postpartum wife and newborn son outside a hospital.”
Richard muttered something I couldn’t hear.
Paige said, “Oh my God, Audrey, grow up.”
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“You need to come home before you embarrass yourself.”
“I’m not coming home.”
Silence.
This time even Victoria stopped talking.
“What did you say?”
“I said I’m not coming home.”
“You’re hormonal.”
There it was.
Six years of marriage reduced to hormones.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“If you hang up on me—”
I ended the call.
Dad stood near the doorway.
He had changed out of uniform before coming to see me.
That mattered to him.
This was family.
Not Army business.
He crossed the room.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
I laughed once, then immediately grabbed my incision.
“Ow.”
Dad pulled the chair closer.
“Audrey, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Has he ever put his hands on you?”
“No.”
“Threatened you?”
“Not physically.”
“Controlled money?”
I hesitated.
That was enough.
Dad’s face changed.
“We had a joint account,” I said. “But Dominic handled the investments.”
“Did he restrict your access?”
“Not exactly.”
Dad waited.
I hated that military stare.
“Sometimes cards stopped working.”
“How often?”
“Usually after arguments.”
His jaw tightened.
“Anything else?”
“He moved money.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Dad leaned back.
“Then we find out.”
Thirty minutes later, attorney Rebecca Sloan arrived.
Early forties.
Calm voice.
No wasted words.
She opened a folder.
“The apartment is interesting.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“The down payment came from a trust established by your grandmother.”
“Yes.”
“The property was purchased after your marriage, but the trust contribution and ownership structure create issues Dominic apparently doesn’t understand.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he may have been spending years bragging about an apartment he has far less control over than he thinks.”
I stared at her.
Rebecca turned another page.
“But that’s not the biggest problem.”
Dad’s eyes moved toward her.
“What is?”
She placed a bank statement in front of me.
“Over the past nineteen months, approximately $486,000 has moved out of accounts containing Audrey’s inherited funds.”
My mouth went dry.
“I didn’t authorize that.”
“I assumed you didn’t.”
“To where?”
Rebecca looked directly at me.
“A company called Vale Strategic Holdings.”
Dominic’s company.
I stared at the numbers.
“He stole from me?”
“We’re not using that word yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because first we prove it.”
My phone buzzed.
This time it wasn’t Dominic.
It was our building manager.
Mrs. Vale, your husband is here with two men. He says they’re changing the locks.
I looked at Rebecca.
She was already standing.
May you like
“Your husband,” she said, “just made our evening much easier.”
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