Chapter 7: The Money That Shouldn't Have Existed
My attorney's name was Patricia Howe.
I'd hired her three weeks before the wedding, quietly, telling Julian I was updating my will — which was true, and which gave me a reason to be in her office twice without raising suspicion.
I called her Saturday afternoon.
She picked up on the second ring.
"I was wondering when you'd call," she said.
"I saw the news."
"What news?"
A brief pause.
"Check your email.
I sent something an hour ago."
I put her on speaker and opened my laptop.
The email contained a single attachment — a screenshot from a financial regulatory filing database, timestamped that morning.
Julian Ashworth.
Flagged for review.
Suspected irregular fund transfers, 2022–2024.
I read it twice.
"Patricia.
What is this?"
"It came through a contact at the SEC.
Informal, not yet public.
Julian's been under a quiet review for eighteen months." Her voice was measured, the way it always was when the information was serious.
"The transfers in question moved through three accounts.
One of them is the joint savings account he opened with you."
My chest tightened.
"He used our account."
"Briefly.
Two transactions, both reversed within forty-eight hours.
Possibly a test.
Possibly an attempt to obscure the trail using a clean account — yours — as a waypoint."
"He married me to use my account as a waypoint."
"I don't know that.
I'm telling you what the pattern looks like."
I stood up from the table and walked to the window.
The same street.
The same ordinary Saturday.
Nothing about it looked the same.
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Nothing yet.
The review is not yet an investigation.
But I want you to send me every financial document connected to Julian — the joint account statements, the wedding gift fund records, anything he signed.
Today if possible."
"I have all of it."
"I know you do." A pause that felt almost warm.
"That's why I took your case."
I sent the files within the hour.
Then I sat at my desk and thought about Gerald Marsh's words.
*The source of Julian's own contributions...
you should ask your attorney to look at where that money originated.*
Gerald had known.
Not everything, perhaps.
But enough to come to my door on a Saturday morning with a personal check and his attorney's card.
Enough to know that Julian's house of cards had a foundation worth examining.
My prepaid phone buzzed.
Julian.
I answered.
"You've been talking to my godfather," he said.
His voice was controlled now.
The rawness from the night before was gone, replaced by something harder.
"He came to me."
"Whatever he told you, he's protecting himself.
Gerald has his own reasons for wanting to distance himself from me right now.
Don't mistake that for honesty."
"What reasons?"
"Clara." His tone sharpened.
"Stop.
Stop digging.
I'm asking you — as someone who did care about you — stop before this becomes something neither of us can walk back from."
"It's already something neither of us can walk back from, Julian.
You made sure of that at the airport."
"That was a mistake.
Sienna pushed for it and I should have said no.
I know that."
"You brought your mistress to our honeymoon."
Silence.
"That's what she is," I said.
"Say it."
More silence.
"I'm filing for annulment on Monday," I said.
"Patricia Howe is my attorney.
You can have your lawyer contact her directly.
I won't be taking your calls after today."
"Clara, if you file, I will contest it.
I will make it long and expensive and I will—"
"Tell me something," I said.
"The money in the joint savings account.
Your contributions.
Where did it come from?"
The silence this time was different.
Longer.
Heavier.
"That's none of your business," he said finally.
"It became my business the moment it passed through an account with my name on it."
The line went de@d.
I set the phone down.
Patricia called back twenty minutes later.
"I've been on with my SEC contact again," she said.
"Clara, the review has been escalated.
As of this afternoon, it's a formal investigation."
I pressed my fingers flat against the desk.
"Julian doesn't know yet," she said.
"But he will by Monday morning."
"Before or after I file?"
"I'd suggest filing first thing Monday," Patricia said.
"Before his attorney has time to move anything."
"Understood."
"One more thing." She paused.
"My contact mentioned a second name connected to the transfers.
Someone who co-signed one of the intermediary accounts."
"Who?"
Patricia said the name.
May you like
I closed my eyes.
It was Sienna.
