Chapter 2 - Protocol Zero"Vivienne?" Reginald answered. "It's late. Is everything all right with the baby?"
"The baby's fine, Reginald."
I paused.
"Execute Protocol Zero on the Manhattan penthouse and my personal portfolio."
Silence on the line.
Reginald had managed my grandfather's estate and my personal intellectual property income for over a decade. He was also one of the very few people who knew that my supposedly "insignificant" translation gigs were actually specialized international patent localization contracts for major AI and software companies.
Those contracts generated millions.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
"Yes."
"If we execute Protocol Zero, Dominic's access to anything connected to your assets ends immediately. We'll separate all joint-access credit facilities and begin tracing transfers out of the secondary accounts."
"Do it."
I leaned back in my chair. "And bring the original deed here tomorrow morning at eight."
At 7:30 the next morning, the kitchen smelled like espresso and expensive pastries. Rosalind sat at the marble island in a silk robe, talking loudly on the phone with Dominic's brother, Preston.
"Don't worry, sweetie. The contractor for your pool will be paid by Friday. Dominic's paycheck clears today, and I'll wire the twenty-five thousand straight to your account!"
Dominic walked in a few minutes later, freshly showered, in a sharp gray suit. Whatever embarrassment he'd felt the night before had completely evaporated. He looked at me with a smug little smile.
"I see you've calmed down." He picked up an apple. "Good. Apologize to my mother for your outburst and we'll forget it happened. And I'm taking the corporate card today — Mom needs to do some home decor shopping."
Before I could answer, three sharp knocks hit the front door.
Dominic frowned. "Who's here this early?"
He opened it. Reginald Ashford stood outside with a forensic accountant and a pair of officials there to formally serve documents.
"Dominic Hale?" Reginald asked.
"Yes. Who are you?"
Reginald walked in and set a gold-embossed folder on the same walnut table Dominic had slammed his fist on the night before.
Rosalind hurried out of the kitchen. "What is the meaning of this? Dominic, do something!"
Reginald calmly opened the folder. "Mrs. Hale, there appears to be some confusion about who actually owns this residence." He laid several documents out on the table. "This is the original deed to Penthouse 4B. The property was purchased outright five years ago through a trust belonging solely to Vivienne Ashford."
Dominic stared at him.
"There is no mortgage on this property, Mr. Hale."
His face went pale. "What are you talking about? I pay five thousand dollars a month!"
"Correct," Reginald said. "Those payments were made under the occupancy agreement you signed before the wedding."
Dominic turned to me. I folded my arms.
"A penthouse like this rents for around twenty-five thousand a month," I said. "I covered the rest, because I didn't care about making you feel small."
His eyes went wide.
May you like
"For years, I subsidized this entire lifestyle while you told everyone you were the one providing it."
"No," he whispered. "That's not possible."
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