Chapter 5 - The Account With My Name On It
The account had been opened fourteen months earlier.
My name.
My Social Security number.
My date of birth.
My old signature.
But the email address belonged to a domain associated with Evan Cross.
More than three million dollars had passed through it.
In.
Out.
In again.
I felt physically sick.
“Why would they use my name?”
Dad answered carefully.
“To create distance from Richard.”
“If someone found it—”
“It could look like you controlled the money.”
That was when the papers finally made sense.
Richard didn’t only want to steal from me.
He wanted a story ready if anyone discovered his financial activity.
Lily stole company money.
Lily hid it with Thomas.
Lily became unstable when confronted.
Lily attacked her husband.
Lily signed away marital claims.
Every document pointed in the same direction.
Me.
The cracked phone recording changed that.
On it, Richard could be heard saying:
“Once you sign the last page, nobody will believe you.”
Then the strike.
Then his threat.
No one can save you now.
Dad replayed that line.
His jaw tightened.
“He thought the paperwork was finished.”
“What happens now?”
“We prove what’s real.”
I wanted something faster.
I wanted Richard dragged away.
I wanted the money returned.
I wanted the last year erased.
Dad gave me none of those fantasies.
“Cases like this take time.”
“What if he destroys everything?”
“He already tried.”
Dad showed me his screen.
At 4:19 p.m., someone using Richard’s credentials had attempted to delete a cloud accounting archive.
The request failed.
At 4:21, another attempt.
Failed.
At 4:23, remote access had been frozen.
That was what “Start it” meant.
Dad had authorized a prearranged preservation protocol with attorneys and forensic specialists after receiving my emergency alert.
The black SUV hadn’t brought enforcers.
It had brought a forensic response team.
People whose job was to preserve devices, records, and evidence when a financial case was at risk.
“Why would they listen to you?”
“They’re not listening to me. They’re working for counsel.”
That answer sounded deliberately modest.
Then another message arrived.
The forensic team had found a draft email on a synchronized account.
From Richard to Evan.
Subject:
Easter.
One sentence underneath:
If she refuses again, we make the video useful.
My hands went cold.
Again.
This wasn’t the first time Richard had tried to get me to sign.
May you like
And Easter wasn’t just the day he lost control.
It was the day he planned to finish something.
