Chapter 4 - Ghosts on the Line
The next afternoon, my phone vibrated in my pocket while I was preparing Richard’s lunch.
I pulled it out and saw the caller ID.
Daniel.
My ex-husband’s name felt like a punch to the gut.
I debated ignoring it, but I needed to know if he was causing trouble.
I stepped into the hallway and answered.
“What do you want, Daniel?”
“Wow, straight to the point,” he sneered. “My mother told me you took a job wiping some cripple’s chin.”
My grip on the phone tightened.
“My employment is none of your business.”
“I just wanted to see how the mighty have fallen,” Daniel laughed. “You took half my savings in the divorce, and you’re still scrubbing floors.”
“You cheated on me for two years, Daniel. The judge gave me what was fair.”
“Whatever. The girl I’m with now is twice the woman you are.”
“Then go bother her,” I snapped, and hung up.
My hands were shaking with residual anger and humiliation.
When I walked back into the room, Richard was watching me intently.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asked quietly.
“Just ghosts,” I muttered, setting his tray down.
“The ex-husband?”
I nodded, avoiding his gaze.
“He and his mother think I’m worthless. They think I can’t survive without them.”
Richard reached out, his hand grasping mine with sudden, shocking strength.
“They are fools,” he said, his voice fierce and steady.
I looked up, startled by the intensity in his eyes.
“You walked into a house full of vipers, stole evidence from under their noses, and haven’t flinched once.”
He let go of my hand, but his gaze didn’t waver.
“By the time we are done here, Emily, you won’t just survive. You’ll be untouchable.”
A strange warmth bloomed in my chest.
For twelve years, Daniel had made me feel small.
In one week, Richard Vance was making me feel like a weapon.
“Now,” Richard said, tapping the red ledger on his lap. “Let’s look at Nathan’s offshore accounts.”
We spent the next hour cross-referencing the ledger with Richard’s secure digital files.
Nathan was transferring millions into a shell company in the Caymans.
“The shell company is called Vanguard Holdings,” Richard noted.
“Who owns it?” I asked.
Richard typed a few commands into his hidden laptop.
The screen blinked, revealing the registered owner of the holding company.
We both stared at the name in absolute silence.
May you like
It wasn’t Nathan.
It was Evelyn Vance. Richard’s own mother.
