Chapter 1: Welcome Home, Elliot
The front door opened.
Elliot stepped inside, one hand loosening the knot of his charcoal tie. His eyes found me first.
Then they moved to the woman standing beside my kitchen island.
Every trace of color left his face.
For three long seconds, no one spoke.
The woman in cream smiled brightly and crossed the foyer toward him.
“There you are.”
She leaned in to kiss his cheek, but Elliot barely reacted. His attention remained fixed on me and the designer coat resting neatly over the barstool.
“Victoria,” he said carefully. “Why are you home?”
I almost laughed.
It was my house.
My kitchen.
My name was on every design plan, construction contract, and ownership document.
Yet my husband stood in the doorway asking why I was there.
“I live here,” I replied.
The woman beside him went still.
Her smile faded as she looked from Elliot to me.
“You live here?”
“I do.”
A small crease formed between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
She turned to Elliot.
“You said she had already moved out.”
He swallowed.
“Celeste, this isn’t—”
“You also said your wife was older.”
I folded my arms.
“That was creative.”
Celeste’s eyes widened.
She stared at my sweatshirt, bare face, and messy hair as the truth slowly rearranged everything she thought she knew.
“You’re his wife?”
“For nine years.”
The expensive confidence drained from her posture.
She looked toward the coat she had thrown at me.
Then toward the coffee machine.
Then back at Elliot.
“You told me she was the housekeeper.”
Elliot closed the front door behind him.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
I had heard that sentence from him many times.
He used it whenever the truth stopped obeying him.
Celeste stepped away.
“You told me her name was Marisol.”
“Maria,” I corrected. “Then Rosa.”
Her cheeks turned pink.
“I didn’t know.”
“I believe you.”
Elliot gave me a warning look.
“Victoria, whatever you think is happening, I can explain.”
“Wonderful.”
I reached beneath the kitchen island and removed a thick black folder.
“I was hoping you would.”
His eyes dropped to it.
For the first time, real fear appeared on his face.
Celeste noticed.
“What’s in the folder?”
I placed it on the marble between us.
“Bank records. Hotel reservations. Property documents. Messages between the two of you.”
Elliot took one slow step forward.
“You went through my private accounts?”
“No.”
I opened the folder.
“I reviewed the accounts belonging to my company.”
Celeste looked at him sharply.
“Your company?”
Elliot’s jaw tightened.
I turned the first page around.
At the top was the name of the holding corporation that owned the house, the cars, and nearly every asset Elliot had been using to impress her.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
Sole owner.
Celeste read it twice.
Then she whispered, “Elliot told me all of this belonged to him.”
I met my husband’s eyes.
“He tells people many things.”
Elliot’s phone began vibrating in his pocket.
He ignored it.
Mine lit up on the counter a second later.
A message from my attorney appeared on the screen.
Everything is ready. Keep him there.
I closed the folder.
“Sit down, Elliot.”
May you like
He stared at me.
“That wasn’t a request.”
