Daniel smirked. “She should be grateful I supported her at all.”
Then his mother, Marilyn—always elegant, always cutting—leaned forward and hissed, “Grace, you were never worth anything.”
Inside my purse was a single sealed letter. I had submitted it quietly days before, without a hint of emotion. I knew what it contained. Daniel didn’t.
The judge took his seat, adjusted his glasses, and began reviewing the file. Daniel lounged back again, arms stretched behind his head, as if the world already belonged to him. But when the judge opened the sealed envelope and began reading, everything changed.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Thirty.
A small, unmistakable chuckle slipped out from the bench.
The judge set the letter down, removed his glasses, and looked straight at Daniel with an expression that said he had just discovered something truly remarkable.
“Well… this changes quite a bit,” he said.
Daniel’s grin fractured. Lana’s face drained of color. Marilyn’s posture snapped stiff with panic.
They didn’t know it yet, but their plan had already collapsed.
Secrets Daniel Thought He Buried
Daniel’s voice wavered just enough to betray him. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then perhaps,” the judge continued, lifting another document, “you can explain why these statements contradict your sworn testimony.”
Lana’s hands twisted tightly together. Marilyn looked ready to faint.
The judge went on, his tone measured but firm. “It appears you created an entity called Harborfield Solutions roughly eighteen months before filing for divorce.”
Daniel’s shoulders locked in place.
“And it also appears,” the judge added, “that you transferred approximately seven hundred and forty thousand dollars into accounts connected to Ms. Wells.”
Lana inhaled sharply, eyes wide.
Emails showing him instructing his accountant to hide the transfers.
Emails explaining how to erase traces of the shell company.
Emails tying every loose thread together in a neat, incriminating bow. Continue reading…