humorless laugh.
“He still thinks I own your shares.”
“Apparently.”
My phone vibrated again.
This time, a photo appeared.
Ethan and Vanessa posed together at our reception, holding champagne glasses.
Vanessa carried my bridal bouquet.
Ethan had captioned it:
Looks like somebody knows how to enjoy herself.
I examined the photo for several moments before sending it to Rebecca.
“Preserve that, too.”
At eight the following morning, I received updated findings from the accountants.
They’d uncovered another $116,000 in unauthorized reimbursements directed to accounts Ethan controlled.
The supporting receipts
