Beatrice had registered B.H. Interiors the previous winter after Adrian gave her access to my company’s vendor portal so she could supposedly “help with paperwork.” Each payment was deliberately small enough to avoid routine scrutiny. Together, however, they totaled $187,000. Most had paid the family’s private debts, while some financed Tiffany’s car. Adrian insisted he hadn’t known. The records eventually supported him on that point—but he had still handed Beatrice the login and taken my Platinum card from a locked drawer.

Then Elena emerged from my study and placed divorce papers beside the bank report. She followed them with my grandfather’s trust

documents. Beatrice frantically searched through the pages, apparently expecting to find some claim to the property. There was none. I was the trust’s sole beneficiary. The house had never belonged to Adrian or his family. Beatrice’s hands began shaking. Tiffany started crying and asked the question that revealed exactly what mattered to her: “Who’s going to pay for my car now?”