“I—I can explain,” he finally managed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “This trip, it’s not what it looks like. I needed to clear my head after the accident. The trauma of it all—”
“Spare me,” I cut in. “I’ve seen the Instagram photos. Your trauma looks remarkably like a champagne-soaked party with another woman on your arm.”
“Those are just friends—”
“Officer Ramirez is looking for you,” I continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Something about driving under the influence. Reckless endangerment. Possibly vehicular assault. He seems very interested in speaking with you.”
The background noise suddenly diminished, as if he’d moved to a quieter location. When he spoke again, his voice had changed—harder, less charming, with an edge I’d never heard before.
“Listen to me carefully, Rebecca. You need to unfreeze those accounts right now. I have expenses to cover here.”
“Expenses?” I repeated, letting the word hang in the air between us. “Like the fifteen thousand dollars in cash withdrawals? Or the yacht rental? Or perhaps the three-thousand-dollar dinner last night?”
His sharp intake of breath told me he hadn’t expected me to know the details.
“You’ve been monitoring my spending. That’s—that’s an invasion of privacy.”
A laugh escaped me. Short, harsh, entirely without humor.
“Privacy? You’re spending my daughter’s money while she’s fighting for her life—the daughter you nearly killed with your reckless driving.”
“That’s not fair,” he protested, though there was a new calculation in his tone. “The accident wasn’t my fault. The other car—”
“There was no other car, Blake. I’ve read the police report. You were drunk. You were speeding. You were texting. And Olivia wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Did you even check if she was buckled in before you decided to play race car driver on Lakeshore Drive?”
His breathing changed, becoming more controlled. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped to something almost reasonable. Cajoling.
“Rebecca, we’re family. I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. But cutting off access to our accounts isn’t the answer. I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise. We can talk through this like adults.”
“Our accounts,” I repeated, focusing on the telling pronoun. “They were never our accounts, Blake. They were my accounts that I allowed you access to as a safety net for emergencies. And as of an hour ago, your access has been permanently revoked.”
“You can’t do that.” The reasonable façade cracked, revealing the fury beneath. “That money is mine now. We’re married. What’s Olivia’s is mine.”
There it was. The truth behind the charming smile and the practiced devotion. In his anger, he’d revealed exactly who he was and what he wanted.
“Actually, I can,” I said, “and I have. By the way, how do you plan to pay for that yacht now? I understand luxury rentals require final payment at the end of the charter.”
“You bitch,” he hissed, abandoning pretense entirely. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“On the contrary,” I replied. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with now. The question is, do you?”
I hung up as he was mid-tirade, then silenced my phone as it immediately began ringing again.
Turning back to Olivia, I gently smoothed her hair away from the surgical bandages.
“Your husband has quite the temper when he doesn’t get his way,” I told her quietly. “Not the charming man you introduced me to at all.”
Linda entered with fresh IV bags, checking Olivia’s vitals with practiced efficiency.
“Everything’s stable,” she reported. “Her latest scan shows the intracranial pressure continuing to decrease. Dr. Patel is cautiously optimistic.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling the first glimmer of hope since entering the hospital. “Linda, if a man named Blake Thompson tries to call or visit, please alert security immediately. He’s not to have any contact with my daughter.”
Linda nodded, her expression professional but understanding.
“I’ll make a note in her file and alert the security desk. Family-only visitation, restricted access.”
After she left, I opened my laptop again, refreshing the banking portal. Timothy had worked quickly. A detailed report of Blake’s spending patterns since marrying Olivia eight months ago appeared in my secure messages.
The picture it painted was damning.
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