PART 5 — DAY THREE

At 8:58 the next morning, I received a message.

DELIVERED.

The attorney’s letter had been served.

Julian’s phone began ringing almost immediately.

I knew because he called me.

I didn’t answer.

He called again.

I didn’t answer.

Then again.

I turned my phone face down.

At 9:17, Vanessa called.

I didn’t answer.

At 9:31, Julian sent a message.

WHAT DID YOU DO?

I deleted it.

Another arrived.

CALL ME NOW.

Then:

ELENA THIS IS SERIOUS.

I almost laughed.

Serious.

Apparently it became serious only when consequences appeared.

At 10:05, Rebecca called.

“He’s received everything.”

“How did he react?”

“His attorney called me.”

“What did he say?”

“That your husband disputes the ownership structure.”

I smiled.

“He can dispute it.”

“There’s more.”

“What?”

“His employer received the documentation regarding the corporate card.”

I sat up.

“The corporate card?”

“Yes.”

“Did they investigate?”

“They’ve suspended his access pending review.”

I stared at the wall.

Julian had used his corporate card for several hotel stays with Vanessa.

He had always told me those were business trips.

Now his employer knew otherwise.

“Rebecca?”

“Yes?”

“Does the letter mention the recording?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re keeping it.”

“Why?”

“In case we need it.”

I understood.

The strongest weapon wasn’t always the one you used first.

At noon, I went to my second salon.

The staff knew something was happening.

Maya approached me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Julian has been calling the front desk.”

I frowned.

“What did he say?”

“He asked if you were there.”

“Did you tell him?”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

She lowered her voice.

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“Vanessa came by.”

I stared at her.

“When?”

“About an hour ago.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted to speak to you.”

“Did she?”

“No.”

Maya smiled.

“She was turned away.”

I laughed.

“Good.”

At 4:00 p.m., my accountant sent another report.

The total amount Julian had moved from our joint funds was now $116,800.

I forwarded everything to Rebecca.

Then I received an unexpected email.

It was from one of Julian’s colleagues.

Elena, I don’t know if I should be contacting you. But I think you should know that Julian has been telling people for months that he intends to divorce you after securing a promotion.

I read the message twice.

Attached was a screenshot from a group chat.

Julian had written:

Once the promotion comes through, I’ll be done with the marriage. She’ll get the house. I just need to make sure the business doesn’t become part of the settlement.

My stomach tightened.

There it was.

His plan.

He hadn’t simply fallen in love with Vanessa.

He had been planning an exit.

And he intended to take part of my business with him.

I forwarded the screenshot.

Rebecca called immediately.

“Elena.”

“I saw it.”

“That’s useful.”

“Very.”

“There’s another thing.”

“What?”

“We’ve reviewed the original purchase documents for the South Congress building.”

“And?”

“The money used to purchase it came from a separate account established before your marriage.”

I smiled.

“So he has no ownership.”

“Correct.”

“Then we’re fine.”

“Legally, the court will determine the final division, but the documentation strongly supports your position.”

I nodded.

“Understood.”

That evening, Julian came home alone.

No Vanessa.

He stood in the doorway.

“Can we talk?”

I was sitting at the dining table.

“About what?”

“You.”

He looked exhausted.

“I didn’t know you had built all this.”

“All what?”

“The business.”

I said nothing.

He sat across from me.

“I thought you owned one salon.”

“I own three.”

“I know.”

“I also own the building.”

“I know.”

“I have a training academy.”

“I know.”

“I have brand contracts.”

“I know.”

“And you never asked.”

He lowered his eyes.

“I thought you were happy.”

I stared at him.

“Happy?”

“Yes.”

“Julian, you spent eight years telling me my work wasn’t real.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You introduced me as a woman who cut hair.”

“You are a stylist.”

“I’m a business owner.”

He looked at me.

“I was wrong.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“You weren’t wrong.

You were arrogant.”

His jaw tightened.

“I apologized.”

“No.”

“You didn’t hear me?”

“You said you were wrong.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not an apology.”

He stared at the table.

Then he said:

“I love you.”

The words hung in the air.

Eight years ago, those words would have destroyed my defenses.

Tonight, they meant nothing.

“You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you cut my hair?”

He had no answer.

“Why did you bring Vanessa into our house?”

Silence.

“Why did you spend our money on her?”

Silence.

“Why did you tell your colleagues you were planning to leave me?”

He looked up sharply.

“Who told you?”

I smiled.

“That’s your answer?”

He stood.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“No.”

I stood too.

“I’m correcting one.”

He looked at me for a long time.

Then he whispered:

“What’s happening in five days?”

I walked toward the stairs.

“You’re going to find out.”