Chapter 2 - THIRTY SECONDS

For the first time all evening, Daniel stopped shouting.

“What do you mean declined?”

“My black card!” Patricia yelled. “It says the account is unavailable!”

I pressed the phone against my ear.

Marcus spoke calmly.

“Her allowance has been terminated.”

“How fast can you freeze everything?”

“Already happening.”

I swallowed.

For years, Patricia had told anyone who would listen that her son supported her.

Daniel never corrected her.

Neither did I.

The truth was uglier.

Three months after our wedding, Daniel came to me in tears.

“My mom spent her whole life sacrificing for me,” he said. “I just want her comfortable.”

So I authorized $10,000 a month from one of my family trusts.

Not Daniel.

Me.

Patricia never thanked me because Daniel let her believe the money came from him.

Outside, she was losing her mind.

“Call the bank!”

“I am calling the bank!”

“Fix it!”

“I’m trying!”

Marcus continued.

“Police are seven minutes away. Estate security has been notified.”

“What about the audit?”

A pause.

“We need to talk about that.”

My stomach tightened.

“What did you find?”

“Enough to know the forged signatures weren’t the beginning.”

I stared at the desk.

“How far back?”

“At least eighteen months.”

I felt sick.

Before I could answer, Daniel’s laptop lit up across the room.

He had left it open before dinner.

A notification appeared.

MISSED VIDEO CALL.

Account: V.V.

My breathing slowed.

I had seen those initials before.

Marcus’s investigators had found them attached to several offshore transfers.

Every time I asked Daniel, he had an explanation.

Consultants.

Tax planning.

International investments.

Another message appeared.

You said tonight.

Don’t lose your nerve now.

I walked toward the laptop.

“Marcus.”

“What?”

“I think Daniel’s receiving messages.”

“Do not touch anything unless necessary.”

A second message appeared.

I’m not waiting another month, Danny.

My skin went cold.

Almost nobody called Daniel “Danny.”

But I remembered someone who had.

A framed photograph once sat on Patricia’s mantel.

A beautiful blonde woman laughing beside Daniel at a lake.

Daniel told me her name was Victoria Vance.

His former fiancée.

She supposedly died in a car accident seven years earlier.

He cried when he told me.

Patricia cried too.

“She was like a daughter,” she said.

The laptop chimed again.

Danny, if Emily is still standing after tonight, we both lose everything.

I stopped breathing.

“Marcus.”

“What is it?”

“The initials are V.V.”

Silence.

Then he asked carefully, “Emily… what do those initials mean to you?”

“Victoria Vance.”

Another silence.

“Wasn’t Victoria Vance killed before you met Daniel?”

“That’s what I was told.”

I heard Marcus typing rapidly.

Outside, Daniel was suddenly quiet.

Too quiet.

Then something clicked near the study door.

Metal against metal.

Daniel was trying a key.

I backed away.

“Marcus.”

“Yes?”

“He’s trying to unlock the door.”

“Police are almost there.”

The lock turned halfway.

Stopped.

Daniel cursed.

Then Patricia whispered something I barely heard.

“Use the old key.”

My blood ran cold.

Because there was only one person who knew where that old key was kept.

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