Chapter Four: The Folder

NADIA POV I found the key three days later. It was in his coat pocket again. The same coat. The same pocket. He had forgotten about it. He had forgotten he had left it there. He had forgotten that I had already found one secret in that coat. I waited until he was asleep. I waited until I was sure he would not wake up. Then I crept out of bed and walked to the study. My hands were shaking. I did not know what I was going to find. I did not know what was waiting for me on the other side of that locked drawer. I only knew that I had to know. I had to see. I had to understand. I unlocked the door. I walked inside. I knelt down beside the desk and slid the key into the lock. It turned easily. Too easily. Like it had been waiting for me. Like it wanted to be opened. I pulled the drawer open. Inside was a folder. Thick. Black. Unmarked. I lifted it out and set it on the desk. I sat down in his chair. I opened the folder. The first page was a legal document. I did not understand it at first. I read it once. I read it twice. I read it a third time. Then I understood. It was a transfer of ownership. My company. The company I had built with my own hands. The company I had poured my soul into. The company I had sacrificed everything for. It was being signed over to someone else. To Serena Cole. I stared at the page. I stared at her name. I stared at the forged signature at the bottom. My signature. It looked like mine. It was close enough to fool anyone who did not know me. But I knew me. I knew my own hand. I knew my own name. I had never signed this document. I had never signed anything. --- I went through the rest of the folder. There were more documents. More transfers. More forged signatures. More lies. Julian had been quietly moving my assets for months. Years. He had been taking everything I had built and giving it to her. To Serena. To the woman he claimed was just a friend. There were bank statements. Accounts I had never seen. Accounts in Serena's name. Accounts funded by my company. By my work. By my life. There were receipts. Hotel receipts. Restaurant receipts. Jewelry receipts. Gifts he had bought her. Gifts he had paid for with money that belonged to me. There were blueprints. Architectural plans. For a house. A house I had never seen. A house I had never designed. A house that was being built for someone else. For her. For Serena. I stared at the blueprints. I stared at the rooms. The kitchen. The living room. The master bedroom. The nursery. The nursery. There was a nursery. I felt something break inside me. Something I had been holding together for years. Something I had been protecting. Something I had been pretending was still whole. I closed the folder. I sat there in the dark. In his chair. In his study. Surrounded by his lies. Surrounded by his secrets. Surrounded by the evidence of everything he had taken from me. I did not cry. I did not scream. I did not do anything. I just sat there. And I planned.

--- JULIAN POV I woke up at four in the morning. Nadia was not in bed. I did not think anything of it at first. She got up in the middle of the night sometimes. She had trouble sleeping. She always had. She would go to the kitchen. She would make herself tea. She would sit in the living room and read until she was tired again. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But something felt wrong. I did not know what. I did not know why. I just felt it. A cold feeling in my chest. A voice in the back of my mind telling me to get up. Telling me to check. Telling me something was happening that I could not see. I got out of bed. I walked through the penthouse. The living room was empty. The kitchen was empty. The bathroom was empty. Then I saw the light. It was coming from my study. The door was open. I never left that door open. I walked toward it. Slowly. Carefully. I did not know what I was going to find. I did not know what was waiting for me on the other side. I stopped in the doorway. Nadia was sitting at my desk. The folder was open in front of her. She was reading. She did not look up when I walked in. She did not say anything. She just sat there. Reading.

NADIA POV I heard him walk in. I did not look up. I could not look up. I could not do anything. I just sat there. The folder open in front of me. The evidence of his betrayal spread across the desk. The truth I had been avoiding for years. "Nadia," he said. His voice was quiet. Careful. Like he was approaching a wounded animal. Like he was afraid I would run. Like he was afraid I would break. I did not run. I did not break. I just sat there. "What are you doing in here?" he asked. I did not answer. "Nadia. Look at me." I looked up. He was standing in the doorway. His hair was messy. His eyes were tired. He was wearing the same t-shirt he had worn to bed. He looked like a man who had just woken up. He looked like a man who had no idea what was about to happen. But he knew. He had to know. He had seen the folder in front of me. "You went through my things," he said. It was not a question. "Yes," I said. "Why?" I laughed. A short, cold laugh. A laugh that held no humor. A laugh that held only pain. "Why?" I repeated. "You are asking me why?" "Nadia-" "I found a photograph in your coat," I said. "A photograph of you and a woman. A woman I have never met. A woman who called herself your friend." He did not speak. "I put it back," I said. "I told myself I was imagining things. I told myself there was an explanation. I told myself you would never do this to me." I gestured to the folder. "Then I found this." He looked at the folder. He looked at the documents. He looked at the forged signatures. He looked at the transfer of ownership. He looked at Serena's name. He did not say anything. He did not deny it. He did not explain. He just stood there. And that was how I knew. That was how I knew it was true.

JULIAN POV She knew. She knew everything. I could see it in her eyes. The way she looked at me. The way she sat in my chair like she owned it. Like she owned everything. Like she was the one in control. I had never seen her like this before. She was not crying. She was not screaming. She was not doing any of the things I had expected her to do. She was just sitting there. Calm. Cold. Collected. It was terrifying. "How long?" she asked. I did not answer. "How long have you been taking from me?" I did not answer. "How long have you been giving my company to her?" I did not answer. "How long, Julian?" "Two years," I said. She did not flinch. She did not blink. She just nodded. Slowly. Like she had already known. Like she had already figured it out. "Two years," she repeated. "That is a long time." "Yes." "That is the same amount of time you have been with her." I did not answer. "That is the same amount of time since I lost our baby." I did not answer. "That is the same amount of time since you left me alone in a hospital room and went to be with her." I did not answer. "You planned this," she said. "You planned all of it." I did not answer. "You took my company. You took my money. You took my life. You gave it all to her." I did not answer. "And you did it while I was grieving. While I was mourning. While I was trying to be a good wife. While I was trying to make you love me again." She stood up. She walked around the desk. She stood in front of me. She looked up at me. Her eyes were dry. Her face was calm. She was not the woman I married. She was someone new. Someone I did not recognize. Someone I did not trust. "You are not who I thought you were," she said. "I know." "You are not the man I fell in love with." "I know." "You are not the man I married." "I know." She nodded. Slowly. Like she was confirming something to herself. Like she was making a decision. "Then I am not your wife anymore," she said. She walked past me. She walked out of the study. She walked down the hallway. I heard the bedroom door close. I heard the lock turn. I stood there in the study. Alone. Surrounded by the evidence of my own destruction. And for the first time in years, I felt something. I felt afraid.