Chapter 5 - Adrian's First Offer
Adrian was released on bail the next afternoon.
He was charged with felony assault pending review of the medical evidence and recording.
His attorney called Rachel within thirty minutes.
Settlement discussion.
Not for the divorce.
For my silence.
I sat in Rachel's office with a bandage beside my hairline while she put the call on speaker.
Adrian's lawyer sounded polished.
“My client is deeply remorseful.”
Rachel looked at me.
I said nothing.
“He understands the evening became emotionally charged.”
Rachel interrupted.
“Your client struck my client in the head with a porcelain plate.”
“Yes.”
“We have video.”
“I understand.”
“Then don't call it emotionally charged.”
The lawyer paused.
“My client would like to resolve the marital issues privately.”
“What does privately mean?”
“A generous financial settlement.”
I almost laughed.
“My client brought most of the money into this marriage,” Rachel said.
Another pause.
“Adrian is willing to waive claims against certain assets.”
“Assets he has no legal claim to?”
The lawyer changed direction.
“He would also agree to counseling.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“I am not interested in counseling.”
Silence.
Adrian's voice suddenly appeared in the background.
“Let me talk to her.”
His attorney tried to stop him.
Adrian ignored him.
“Claire.”
I stared at the speaker.
“You humiliated me.”
Rachel reached toward the phone.
I stopped her.
I wanted to hear this.
Adrian continued.
“You challenged my parents in front of everybody.”
“You assaulted me.”
“I reacted.”
“You chose.”
“I didn't mean to hurt you that badly.”
My skin went cold.
Not hurt you.
Not hurt you that badly.
Rachel wrote the exact words down.
Adrian realized his mistake too late.
“That's not what I meant.”
I finally spoke.
“Why was there a forged transfer of my condo in your basement?”
Silence.
“My father handles those documents.”
“Your handwriting was on the planning sheet.”
“That doesn't mean I forged anything.”
“Why did you write that I would fight at first?”
He breathed heavily.
“Because you always make everything difficult.”
“My refusing to surrender a four-million-dollar home is difficult?”
“My family needs help.”
“Then sell the vineyard.”
His voice sharpened.
“You know what that property means to my father.”
“And my condo means nothing to me?”
“You could buy another one.”
There it was.
Simple.
Effortless.
My work was replaceable.
Their inheritance was sacred.
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Claire, we can survive this.”
I thought about the plate.
The silence around the table.
The forged deed.
Maya in the basement.
“No.”
“You destroyed us.”
“No.”
I looked at Rachel.
“You just finally made it impossible for me to keep pretending we existed.”
I ended the call.
Ten minutes later, the forensic accountant Rachel hired called.
She had accessed our joint financial records.
Adrian had withdrawn $170,000 over the previous eight months.
I had never noticed because he moved the money in increments.
Twenty thousand.
Fifteen.
Thirty.
Always below the level that would stand out among my business transactions.
All of it went to Charles.
But one transfer was different.
Forty thousand dollars had gone to a private investigation firm.
Rachel frowned.
“Why would Adrian hire investigators?”
The answer arrived that evening.
May you like
The investigator had not been watching a competitor.
He had been watching me.
