Chapter 3 - What Julian Hid
I listened to that recording three times.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I needed to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood.
Martin Keller’s voice sounded distant, as if he had entered Julian’s office without realizing the recorder was running.
“Rachel’s attorney subpoenaed the compensation statements.”
Julian answered calmly.
“She’ll get what we give her.”
“Julian.”
“Relax.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
Then Martin’s voice sharpened.
“If you’re moving partnership distributions before disclosure, you’re putting this firm in the middle of your divorce.”
Julian laughed.
“I’m moving nothing.”
“You better not be.”
A door slammed.
Then Victoria spoke.
“You lied to him.”
“I managed him.”
“What happens if Rachel discovers the Mercer account?”
“She won’t.”
I stopped the recording.
Noah stood beside me in the garage.
“What’s the Mercer account?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Dad steal money?”
“I don’t know that either.”
That was the truth.
And I refused to tell my son something I couldn’t prove.
But I knew one thing.
Julian had hidden money during our divorce.
Possibly much more.
I called my attorney.
Melissa Grant had represented me through eighteen months of hell.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Rachel?”
“I found something.”
“What kind of something?”
“Julian’s old voice recorder.”
Silence.
“What’s on it?”
“I think you need to hear it.”
She listened that evening.
Then again.
Afterward, she leaned back in her chair.
“This changes things.”
“How much?”
“Potentially everything.”
Melissa explained that during the divorce Julian had sworn under oath that he had fully disclosed his income, bonuses, partnership distributions, and investment accounts.
If that was false, the settlement could be reopened.
But something else bothered her.
“Mercer,” she said.
“What?”
“You heard that name?”
“Several times.”
Melissa turned to her computer.
She searched.
Then her expression changed.
“Mercer Development.”
“So?”
“They were a major client of Julian’s firm.”
My stomach tightened.
“How major?”
“Very.”
She leaned closer to the screen.
“There was a settlement involving them three years ago. Eight figures.”
“You think Julian stole from a client?”
“I think we don’t assume anything until we know.”
She connected the recorder to her laptop.
“There are dozens of files here.”
“How many?”
“Forty-seven.”
We had heard three.
Melissa copied everything.
The next afternoon she called me.
Her voice was different.
Controlled.
Professional.
Scared.
“Rachel, I need you to come to my office.”
“Why?”
“Do not bring Noah.”
“What did you find?”
A pause.
Then:
“Julian wasn’t only hiding money from you.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Melissa.”
“There are conversations about client funds.”
My knees weakened.
“How much money?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Thousands?”
Silence.
“Millions?”
Another silence.
Then she said:
“And Victoria knew.”
That night, I stared at the wedding invitation sitting on my kitchen counter.
Six weeks away.
Gold letters.
Perfect paper.
Perfect couple.
May you like
And I realized Julian wasn’t marrying the woman who destroyed my marriage.
He was marrying the only person who might know exactly what he had done.
