Food.
Alcohol.
Private suite.
Entertainment.
Luxury services.
Attempted jewelry purchase.
Then she smiled slightly.
“The necklace never left the boutique.”
“At least there’s that.”
“There’s more.”
She slid a form toward me.
My stomach dropped.
There it was.
My company name.
And below it…
A weak imitation of my signature.
Michael hadn’t even tried to make it convincing.
He assumed nobody would challenge it because he had once been my husband.
Teresa tapped the page.
“This may qualify as forgery and unauthorized use of financial instruments.”
“What about Vanessa?”
Teresa nearly laughed.
“She posted half the evidence herself.”
Videos.
Photos.
Receipts.
Champagne toasts.
The sapphire necklace.
Every embarrassing detail.
Vanessa had documented Michael’s crime for us.
By noon, Michael was escorted off the property after accusing me of being crazy, accusing the receptionist of disrespect, and informing a delivery driver that successful women were dangerous.
Lupita texted me.
He forgot the cameras record audio.
I replied:
Save everything.
That afternoon, Teresa filed emergency motions with the court.
The bank confirmed every card had been restricted before the attempted charges.
The club submitted security footage.
My father assembled a timeline so detailed it looked like something from a federal investigation.
But the biggest surprise arrived at 3:18 p.m.
Vanessa called.
I answered only because Teresa was sitting beside me.
“Mariana?”
Her voice sounded different.
Not smug.
Scared.
“What do you want?”
