The numbers led to a shell corporation called Marlin Holdings. The beneficiary? A name that sent a cold spike through Richard's brain: Damien Leclerc.
"Damien?" he whispered, the name tasting like bile.
Elaine nodded, her brow furrowing. "The payments are routed through a series of offshore accounts, each one a step farther from Providence. The timing matches the last four months—exactly when Natalie started making 'extra' trips."
Richard's thoughts raced. He remembered the way Natalie’s smile had brightened when she mentioned a lover in passing, how she’d brushed his hand away as if to hide something.
"You're saying my wife… she’s been siphoning my assets?" Elaine asked, her tone equal parts concern and professional detachment.
He clenched his jaw, the effort making his heart thud louder against the monitor.
"She’s been moving money into Damien’s pockets," Elaine continued, sliding a copy of the shell company’s registration onto the table. "If this audit proceeds, it could expose the entire scheme."
Richard stared at the paper, feeling a surge of anger that fought against the weakness of his body.
"What do we do?" he whispered, a single word that felt like a promise.
Elaine’s eyes met his, steady and cold. "First, we keep this confidential. Then we use the audit to freeze the transfers. We need to cut Damien off before he disappears entirely."
Natalie Returns, Confronts the Promise, and Reveals the Transfer
The door swung open with a soft sigh, and Natalie slipped back into the room, her coat dripping with rain.
"You look pale, Richard," she cooed, her voice dripping honey, though the flicker of the monitor painted a harsher truth.
He lifted his hand, a weak gesture, and managed to say, "I… promised to help Marcus." The words felt like a fragile bridge over a chasm.
Natalie's smile faltered for a heartbeat, then hardened. "Marcus? The boy with the sister who needs surgery?" She crossed the space between them, her heels clicking on the linoleum.
"He told me his sister needs a $2.4 million heart operation," Richard whispered, the image of Ava's frail face flashing behind his eyes. "I can’t—"
"Don’t strain yourself," she snapped, pulling a sleek black leather folder from her coat and slamming it onto the bedside table.
Elaine’s presence seemed to vanish as Natalie opened the folder, revealing a cascade of printed statements.
"Your lawyer already filed the audit," Natalie said, eyes narrowing. "But you haven’t accounted for the transfer I made last night."
Richard stared at the numbers, his breath shallow. The ledger showed a massive outflow—$78 million—into an offshore account under Damien’s name.
"You moved the fortune," he breathed, each word a trembling breath.
Natalie's lips curled into a cold smile. "The bulk of it. I’ve already secured our future in Malibu. Damien will take care of everything." She lifted the folder, revealing a glossy passport photo of Damien beside a sleek yacht.
Richard's pulse raced despite the monitor’s beeping. "You… you gave it all away?"
"I gave it away to the man who loves me," she replied, leaning in so close his scent of antiseptic mixed with her perfume.
