Chapter 3

Teresa's eyes flickered with suspicion, but she quickly recovered. "Of course, I remember. You loved that painting. What made you think of it?"

"No reason. Just seems like a shame." I held her gaze. "I really wish we could've bought it."

"Oh, honey, let it go."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

"Honey, some serious collector probably bought that painting ages ago. We can't compete with that kind of money. Anyway, a friend of mine is throwing a company cocktail party in a few days. Come with me. I'd love for you to meet a few people."

She still thought I was the husband who never told her no and did whatever it took to help her get ahead.

I closed my eyes and nodded, a cold weight settling in my chest. I no longer knew how much of our life together was a lie.

For the next few days, I kept up our usual routine. I made breakfast, helped her get ready for work, and pulled her into my arms before she left.

I needed evidence. The apartment upstairs was only the beginning, and I needed to find out how far the deception went.

I made a good living as a concept designer, with a studio and a brand of my own.

When Teresa and I got together, she was just starting out as a financial advisor. The prize money from my first major design award helped her start the investment firm she eventually named Payne Capital.

Over the years, my studio brought in substantial money. After setting aside enough for our living expenses, I gave Teresa most of what remained to manage through what she called our "family investments."

I trusted her completely. Not once did I ask to see the accounts, an oversight that now made me feel like an idiot.

I told Teresa I needed the transaction records for our joint account to help prepare my studio's annual taxes.

She didn't question it. The next day, her assistant dropped off a thick stack of documents.

I shut myself in the study and worked through them page by page. It didn't take long to spot something.

For the past six months, 40 thousand dollars went out of our account every month to the same recipient: Gary Holmes.

I stared at the name.

Anthony Holmes. Gary Holmes.

I was almost certain Gary was Anthony's father or an older relative. Forty grand a month was a staggering amount, whether Teresa was supporting him or paying for his silence.

My hands began to shake as I dug further. Near the end of last year, a single payment of 1.5 million dollars left our account.

The transaction description read: Commercial Property Purchase, Lakeside Estates.

I remembered that investment. Teresa told me she found a commercial property that could shoot up in value, then talked me into putting most of my studio's available cash into it.

She even showed me a scanned copy of the deed. Both our names appeared on it as owners.

The bank records told a different story. The 1.5 million dollars never went to a real estate company. It went to an offshore company registered in the Carradine Islands.

I called my friend Joel Johnson, an attorney, and asked him to look into Lakeside Estates. I also asked him to check who owned Payne Capital and find whatever he could on Gary.

Joel worked fast. Half a day later, he called back.

"Frank, that property isn't in either of your names. A company owns it, and it's not one I recognize.

"Something's off with Payne Capital, too. Teresa's listed as an authorized representative, but she only owns 10%. An overseas parent company owns the other 90%, and the person who actually controls it is her father's secretary.

"As for Gary Holmes..."

Joel paused, his voice turning cautious.

"He's Anthony's father. I checked out Anthony, too. Besides the apartment above yours, he's got two cars in his name. A Porsche 911 and a Range Rover."