Chapter 3 - A DINNER SERVED WITH LIES|
The following evening, Alexander returned home carrying a bouquet of white roses.
Victoria almost found the gesture funny.
He had not bought her flowers in months, yet he had suddenly remembered her favorite kind when their marriage was falling apart.
“Peace offering?” she asked.
Alexander placed the bouquet on the dining table.
“Can we stop behaving like strangers?”
“You mean can I stop asking questions?”
His jaw tightened.
“I know you're upset.”
“Upset is what people feel when someone forgets their birthday. I'm considering divorce.”
He pulled out a chair.
“Let's have dinner.”
Victoria remained standing.
“Why?”
“Because we're married.”
“For another few days, perhaps.”
His eyes flashed.
“You're making a mistake.”
“No, Alexander. I made a mistake ten years ago when I believed that being loved by you meant I was safe with you.”
He stared at her, apparently searching for the woman who would have apologized for upsetting him.
She was no longer there.
At dinner, he tried a different approach.
He asked about her day. He mentioned a new charity project. He even remembered that she had once wanted to travel to Italy in the spring.
Victoria answered politely.
When the servants withdrew, Alexander reached across the table and took her hand.
“I've been under enormous pressure.”
“Then hire better advisers.”
He ignored the remark.
“The business has been difficult. I made some decisions I regret.”
“Did those decisions involve my signature?”
His hand went still.
Victoria watched him carefully.
“Northbridge Holdings. Does that name mean anything to you?”
For the first time that evening, Alexander looked genuinely surprised.
Then his expression closed.
“Who told you about Northbridge?”
“That isn't an answer.”
He released her hand.
“You've been talking to Nathan.”
“He's my lawyer.”
“Your lawyer has no business interfering in my affairs.”
“My name is on the documents. That makes them my affairs.”
Alexander stood so abruptly that his chair scraped against the floor.
“Those documents are complicated.”
“Explain them.”
“Not tonight.”
“Then tomorrow.”
“Victoria—”
“Tomorrow, Alexander.”
He stared at her for several seconds before walking away.
She waited until his footsteps disappeared upstairs, then retrieved the phone she had left recording on the sideboard.
Nathan had advised her to document conversations whenever legally permissible and to preserve every original record.
The recording contained only part of their exchange, but it captured Alexander acknowledging that the business decisions existed and refusing to explain them.
It was not proof of fraud.
It was a beginning.
The next morning, Victoria visited the bank that administered her personal trust.
She had opened the trust years before marrying Alexander, using money inherited from her grandmother. The assets had always been legally separate from the Moretti businesses.
Or so she believed.
A bank officer reviewed the account and asked to speak with her privately.
“Mrs. Moretti, someone submitted a request last month to change the authorized contact on your trust.”
“Who?”
“The request was accompanied by a power-of-attorney document.”
Victoria's blood chilled.
“I never signed a power of attorney.”
The officer showed her a copy.
Her signature appeared at the bottom.
It was convincing enough to fool someone who had never seen her sign her name.
“Who submitted it?”
“A representative from a company called Northbridge Holdings.”
Victoria returned to Nathan's office carrying the document.
He examined it and immediately called a forensic document specialist.
“This changes everything,” he said.
“How?”
“If Alexander used a forged power of attorney to access your separate assets, we may be looking at a deliberate effort to place your money under his control.”
Victoria stared at the signature.
She remembered signing dozens of documents during her marriage. Insurance forms. Foundation paperwork. Corporate approvals.
Had one of those moments been used to create this forgery?
Nathan lowered his voice.
“We need to know who prepared it.”
A few hours later, the specialist called with preliminary findings.
The signature was inconsistent with Victoria's natural writing pattern.
More importantly, the document had been created on a computer registered to an office used by one of Alexander's financial advisers.
Nathan arranged for a formal report.
Victoria finally allowed herself to breathe.
Then her phone rang.
It was Alexander.
“Come home,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because someone has been asking questions about our accounts.”
Victoria looked at Nathan.
Alexander continued.
“And I need you to tell me exactly what you've given your lawyer.”
She understood then.
He wasn't calling to save their marriage.
May you like
He was calling because he was afraid.
And he had no idea how much she already knew.
