The leaked documents and divorce papers arrived in the same envelope. I didn’t understand why until I was back in my office, staring at both while Desmond stood silently in the doorway. My wife hadn’t simply discovered Seraphina. Delphine had spent four months building a case after quietly uncovering the affair. But while searching for proof, she found something much worse: for five years, I had been using my client entertainment accounts as a personal slush fund. Jewelry, private flights, a penthouse held through a shell company—everything had been charged to accounts belonging to investors.

She didn’t just leave me. She documented the fraud behind my double life and sent the evidence to the two people who could do the most damage: my lawyer and my managing partner. Then Desmond admitted he had helped her. For five years, he had booked my flights, processed my expenses, and cleaned up my lies. But when Delphine came to him, he chose her. He handed over the records, receipts, and itineraries, and that was when I realized just how much of my life had been visible to everyone except me.