My Husband Broke My Leg After I Caught Him With His Mistress—But He Didn’t Know My Father Was The Man Washington Feared, And The Night He Locked Me In The Dark Became The Beginning Of His Family’s Public Destruction...

The mansion was dead quiet. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed 2:00 AM.

Lena sat up in the luxurious guest bed, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face in the dark. For three years, Grant had been foolish enough to let Lena manage their shared home network. He had never bothered to change his administrative passwords, assuming she was too focused on fabric swatches and architectural blueprints to care about his digital footprint.

His arrogance was a goldmine.

Within thirty minutes, Lena had bypassed his two-factor authentication. She cloned his cloud drive and began downloading gigabytes of data onto a secure, encrypted drive Elias had provided.

She found the wire transfers first. Massive sums of money funneled from Caldwell Development Group into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands, registered under a fake corporate entity. Then, she found the emails. Grant communicating with a known mob associate in Chicago to forcibly clear out a low-income housing complex, ordering them to cut the heat in winter so the tenants would leave.

Then, a notification popped up on Grant’s synced messaging app.

Veronica: I can't sleep. I miss you. Can you get away tomorrow? Tell the cripple you have a board meeting.

Lena stared at the screen. The sheer cruelty of the message didn't make her cry. It made her smile.

She took a screenshot of the message. Then, she dug deeper, accessing Grant’s private photo vault. She found dozens of pictures of him and Veronica in luxury hotels, timestamped months before the incident on the stairs.

She compiled everything into a master folder labeled 'The Gala.'

Her phone buzzed silently on the nightstand. It was Elias.

Did you find what you need?

Lena typed back immediately. I found enough to bury him, his father, and the company. Send Matthew Kane.