At my husband’s company party, he struck my shoulder hard enough to send me stumbling toward a champagne table, then whispered, “Go home.

Ethan Shaw flipped to the next slide on the big screen.

“Ms. Price is correct about one detail,” Ethan said, his voice dry and methodical. “She did not keep all three point four million dollars.”

Julian froze.

“Out of the funds funneled through CP Ventures,” Ethan explained, “approximately one point one million remained with Ms. Price. The remaining two point three million dollars was redirected through Briar Consulting to a third entity.”

The screen refreshed, displaying a new corporate registry document.

“Bexley Capital Services,” Ethan read. “An offshore holding company registered in the Cayman Islands. And the sole beneficiary of Bexley Capital Services is the J.V. Family Investment Trust.”

Ethan looked up from his papers and met Julian’s gaze.

“Julian Vance Family Trust. Opened eleven months ago.”

A collective gasp echoed through the room.

Julian looked as though he had been hit by a physical force. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

He had spent months believing he was a genius, using Camilla to shield his paper trail, thinking his position as Chief Strategy Officer made him untouchable. He had never imagined that the quiet woman sitting at home reading books was the person pulling the financial strings behind the scenes.

“Julian,” Audrey said, her voice dripping with ice. “You spent eighteen months telling the staff that we had to cut travel budgets, freeze hiring, and eliminate annual bonuses due to severe market conditions.”