Chapter 8 - The True Mastermind
Success is the best revenge, but peace is the ultimate victory.
Six months passed.
Maya Holdings was thriving.
Without Dominic’s ego driving reckless expansions, I stabilized the company's core assets. I turned the failing luxury hotels into profitable, boutique wellness resorts.
The board loved me.
The investors worshipped me.
But more importantly, I finally loved myself.
I was sitting in my garden one Sunday morning, watching Maya play on a picnic blanket. She was laughing, trying to catch a butterfly.
Simone was sitting across from me, sipping a mimosa.
“You know,” Simone said, watching the baby. “I never asked you the most important question.”
“What’s that?”
“How did you find the second set of books?”
I smiled, taking a sip of my tea.
“I didn’t find them, Simone.”
Simone paused, her glass hovering near her lips. “What do you mean?”
“Dominic was careless, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave a ledger on a desk. He had them encrypted.”
“So... how?”
I leaned back in my chair.
“For our fifth anniversary, Dominic bought me a diamond necklace. It was beautiful. But the receipt slipped out of his bag. He had paid for it using an account I didn’t recognize.”
Simone’s eyes widened.
“I hired a forensic accountant,” I continued calmly. “Two years ago. Long before he asked for a divorce. I knew he was cheating the company. I knew he was building an offshore empire.”
“You knew for two years?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you wait?”
I looked at Maya.
“Because I didn’t have enough leverage. If I exposed him then, I was just a whistleblower wife. I needed him to make a fatal mistake. I needed him to be so arrogant that he would hand me the sword himself.”
Simone stared at me in awe.
“The merger,” she whispered.
“Exactly,” I nodded. “I waited until he tied his entire survival to Arthur Sterling. I waited until he thought I was weak and discardable. When he handed me those divorce papers and told me not to fight... that was the moment I knew he had trapped himself.”
Simone started laughing.
It was a deep, belly laugh that startled the birds in the garden.
“Evelyn Vale,” she said, shaking her head. “You are the most terrifying woman I have ever met.”
May you like
“Not Vale,” I corrected her softly.
“No,” she agreed, raising her glass. “Not Vale.”
