Chapter 13 - The Husband Who Came Back Begging
The next morning, Dominic arrived at my attorney's office without his wedding ring.
He looked terrible.
His expensive suit was wrinkled.
His eyes were bloodshot.
He hadn't shaved.
For the first time since I'd known him, his shoes weren't polished.
Simone had agreed to a meeting only after Dominic contacted his own attorney and accepted that the conversation would occur with counsel present.
I hadn't wanted to come.
But there were questions only he could answer.
When I entered the conference room, Dominic stood.
“Evelyn.”
“Sit down.”
He obeyed.
That surprised me.
For years, Dominic had interrupted me during meetings.
Corrected me in front of executives.
Explained financial concepts I had taught him.
Now he looked as though he needed permission to breathe.
“How's Rose?” he asked.
I sat across from him.
“Safe.”
He swallowed.
“Good.”
“Is that why you're here?”
“Evelyn, I need you to listen.”
“You had seven years to speak honestly. You can start now.”
His attorney, a gray-haired man named Robert Kline, placed a hand on his arm.
“Dominic, remember what we discussed.”
Dominic ignored him.
“Graham is going to destroy me.”
I said nothing.
“He's been moving money through companies I don't control.”
“You approved transfers.”
“I didn't know everything.”
“You knew enough to use my credentials.”
He looked down.
“I made mistakes.”
I felt something inside me harden.
“Mistakes?”
“Evelyn—”
“You copied my signature.”
He said nothing.
“You allowed a woman to lose her career.”
Still nothing.
“You helped build a financial trail pointing toward me.”
Dominic's eyes filled.
“I thought we could fix it later.”
I stared at him.
For years, that had been his favorite phrase.
We'll fix it later.
When he missed our anniversary.
When he borrowed money without telling me.
When he signed a risky contract.
When he humiliated me in front of his executives.
Later.
There was always a later.
Until there wasn't.
“You didn't think I was worth protecting,” I said.
His face crumpled.
“That's not true.”
“Then tell me why you did it.”
He looked at Robert.
The attorney gave a small nod.
Dominic took a breath.
“Graham approached me after my father refused to approve the first acquisition.”
“When?”
“Almost five years ago.”
“What did he offer?”
“Financing. Enough to turn Vale Hospitality into a global brand.”
“And what did he want?”
“Control over the new properties.”
I watched him.
“Did you know he was moving company money through fake vendors?”
“Not at first.”
“When did you find out?”
“After the first transfer.”
“You kept going.”
Dominic nodded.
“I did.”
The admission hung in the air.
He looked at me.
“I thought once the company grew, we'd replace the missing money.”
I shook my head.
“You can't repair stolen funds by stealing more.”
“I know.”
“No. You know now because you're losing.”
He flinched.
I didn't stop.
“You didn't come to the hospital because you cared about Rose.”
“Evelyn—”
“You came because your merger was in trouble.”
He looked away.
“Graham told me the only way to close it was to get your signature.”
“And what did the agreement actually do?”
Dominic's attorney answered.
“We believe it was drafted to obtain broad releases that would benefit the proposed transaction parties.”
I looked at him.
“Would it have protected Dominic from everything?”
“No. A private agreement cannot erase criminal liability or bind parties who haven't validly consented. But it could have complicated some future civil claims.”
I turned back toward my ex-husband.
“And you knew that.”
Dominic whispered, “Yes.”
Silence settled over the conference room.
Then I asked the question that mattered most.
“Who sent the photograph of Rose?”
Dominic's head snapped up.
“What photograph?”
I showed him.
His expression changed.
Not surprise at first.
Recognition.
Then fear.
“Where did you get that?”
“You sent the email containing it.”
“I sent the email. I didn't take that photograph.”
“Who gave it to you?”
Dominic stared at the table.
“Graham's security director.”
I felt cold.
“Name.”
“Victor Crane.”
“Why was he in my house?”
Dominic looked horrified.
“I didn't know he'd entered your home.”
“Then why did you send the picture?”
“Graham forwarded it to me and told me to use it to make you cooperate.”
I couldn't speak for a moment.
Dominic had received a photograph taken inside his newborn daughter's nursery.
And instead of contacting the police, he'd used it to threaten her mother.
I stood.
The meeting was over.
“Evelyn, please.”
I looked at him.
“You don't get to call yourself her father just because biology says you are.”
He began crying.
I felt nothing.
Not hatred.
Not satisfaction.
Only the terrible distance between the man I had loved and the man sitting before me.
His attorney rose.
“Mrs. Bennett, Dominic has additional information.”
I stopped.
“What information?”
Dominic wiped his face.
“Graham has a private server.”
Simone leaned forward.
“Where?”
“In an office at the Whitmore family estate.”
“What does it contain?”
“Correspondence, transaction files, backups. Everything he thought might be useful if someone turned against him.”
“Have you seen it?”
Dominic nodded.
“I copied some of it.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where's the copy?”
He took a small sealed envelope from his briefcase.
Robert stopped him.
“Dominic.”
He hesitated.
Then he placed the envelope on the table without opening it.
Inside was a storage device.
His attorney spoke carefully.
“We want to arrange an appropriate transfer to investigators under a cooperation agreement. We are not asking you to handle or authenticate this material yourselves.”
Simone nodded.
“That would be the proper route.”
Then Dominic looked at me.
“There's something in those files about my father.”
I felt my breath catch.
“What?”
He looked as though the words were physically painful.
“Graham was paying someone at the hospital during Dad's final week.”
I sat back down.
“Who?”
Dominic shook his head.
“I don't know the person's real name.”
“Then what do you know?”
May you like
He swallowed.
“The payments continued for three months after Dad died.”
