Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN APARTMENT 14BI did not confront Dominic about Sabrina Cole.
That required more self-control than almost anything I had done in my life.
Margaret’s advice was simple.
“Information is more valuable before the other side knows you have it.”
So while Dominic sent me long text messages accusing me of allowing my father to “weaponize his reputation,” I said nothing about Sabrina.
Instead, I learned.
She had joined Hale Meridian three years earlier.
Former management consultant.
MBA.
Photographed at corporate events standing near Dominic more often than coincidence would explain.
She lived in a luxury apartment on East Seventy-Second Street.
Rent: $11,800 per month.
Lease guarantor: Dominic Hale.
The payments did not come from his personal checking account.
They came through a consulting entity funded partly by VHL Holdings.
Victoria’s company.
That made no sense.
Until it did.
Victoria hadn’t simply been receiving money.
She had been helping Dominic move it.
“Could she know about the affair?” I asked Margaret.
“Possibly.”
“Could she be helping hide it?”
“Possibly.”
Dad sat across the table.
“What does Sabrina do at the company?”
“Partnerships.”
Margaret turned her laptop.
“She also appears as an officer in two subsidiaries.”
I read the names.
One was registered in Delaware.
The other in Nevada.
Neither had appeared in any financial documents Dominic had shown me.
“Shell companies?”
“Maybe legitimate entities. Maybe not.”
Dad spoke carefully.
“This is a civilian matter.”
I smiled faintly.
“You’ve said that seventeen times.”
“I’m making sure you understand that I have no intention of involving government investigators merely because I’m your father.”
“I know.”
“If laws were broken, your attorney handles referrals through proper channels.”
“I know, Dad.”
He nodded.
Then added, “I still reserve the right to dislike him.”
“That’s permitted.”
“Strongly.”
“Also permitted.”
Two days passed.
My body slowly began healing.
My marriage did the opposite.
Dominic’s first scheduled visit with Leo took place at the apartment with a professional caregiver present.
He arrived carrying flowers.
For me.
I looked at them.
Then at him.
“What are those?”
“Flowers.”
“I recognize the species.”
He sighed.
“Audrey, can we please stop performing?”
I nearly laughed.
“You brought roses to a custody exchange.”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“Your divorce petition says otherwise.”
His face tightened.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“How was it supposed to happen?”
He looked toward the caregiver.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
He lowered his voice anyway.
“I was going to explain everything after you recovered.”
“After you transferred my assets?”
“I didn’t transfer them for myself.”
“Sabrina Cole.”
The name escaped before I could stop it.
His face emptied.
There.
Confirmation.
I regretted telling him instantly.
But I also learned something.
He knew exactly who she was and exactly why her name mattered.
“Who told you that?” he asked.
“Interesting question.”
“She has nothing to do with us.”
“Then why are you paying her rent?”
He glanced toward the caregiver again.
“I’m not discussing corporate arrangements.”
“Does corporate strategy usually involve bedrooms?”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re being disgusting.”
The old Audrey might have doubted herself after that.
I didn’t.
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
“Look at me.”
“I am.”
“No. Actually look at me and say it.”
He did.
“I am not sleeping with Sabrina.”
For one heartbreaking second, I wanted to believe him.
Then his phone lit up on the counter.
A message preview appeared.
SABRINA: Did she find the Florida paperwork too?
Dominic snatched the phone.
Too late.
I stared.
“What Florida paperwork?”
“Nothing.”
“What Florida paperwork?”
“Audrey—”
I turned toward the caregiver.
“Could you take Leo into the nursery for a minute?”
She looked uncertain.
Dominic said sharply, “No.”
I looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“This is my parenting time.”
“Then parent.”
The caregiver quietly carried Leo across the room.
I lowered my voice.
“What did you buy in Florida?”
“Nothing.”
“Sabrina thinks I found paperwork.”
“She’s talking about the company.”
“Then show me.”
“I don’t have to.”
“No. But a court order says you do.”
His face hardened.
“You really think you’re going to win this because your father has stars on his shoulders?”
I felt an unexpected wave of sadness.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Dad hasn’t done anything to you.”
“He brought lawyers.”
“I hired Margaret.”
“He brought security.”
“He came directly from work.”
“He created a media circus.”
“Your mother created the media circus when she shouted at reporters.”
Dominic looked away.
I continued.
“You keep blaming him because admitting the truth would require you to look at your own choices.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You sound exactly like him.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The visit ended without further confrontation.
But Sabrina’s message gave Margaret something concrete to search for.
Florida paperwork.
The next morning, she found it.
A house.
Not a condominium.
A four-bedroom waterfront property near Palm Beach.
Purchase price: $3.2 million.
Owned through an LLC.
The LLC’s managing member?
Sabrina Cole.
Mortgage guarantor?
A Hale Meridian subsidiary.
Down payment?
Money traced through Victoria’s VHL Holdings.
I stared at the listing photos.
White stucco.
Pool.
Private dock.
A room decorated as a nursery.
My breath stopped.
“Zoom in.”
Margaret enlarged the photograph.
A pale green nursery.
Crib.
Rocking chair.
Tiny clothes folded on open shelving.
My heart began pounding.
“Does Sabrina have children?”
“We’re checking.”
Twenty minutes later, Margaret received an answer.
“No children listed.”
I looked at her.
“Pregnant?”
“We don’t know.”
I knew.
Or at least I thought I knew.
Suddenly everything became horrifyingly simple.
Dominic was leaving me.
Dominic had another woman.
Another house.
Possibly another baby.
He wanted control of my assets because his finances were collapsing.
And he wanted custody leverage because I controlled money he couldn’t legally reach.
I thought I had reached the bottom.
I hadn’t.
That afternoon, an unknown number called.
I almost ignored it.
Then something made me answer.
“Hello?”
Silence.
A woman’s voice.
“Is this Audrey?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Sabrina.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you before Dominic finds out.”
I stood.
“About what?”
Another silence.
Then she said:
“I’m not his mistress.”
I almost hung up.
She rushed on.
“I know what you think. I know what the apartment looks like. I know what Florida looks like.”
“Then explain.”
“I can’t over the phone.”
“Why?”
“Because Dominic checks company devices, and Victoria hired someone to watch me.”
That stopped me.
“What are you talking about?”
Her breathing sounded shaky.
“Audrey, the house in Florida isn’t for me.”
“Then who?”
She whispered the answer.
“For you.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it made absolutely no sense.
“I have never seen that house.”
“I know.”
“Then why would Dominic buy me a house through your company?”
“He wasn’t buying it for you.”
“What does that mean?”
Sabrina inhaled.
“He planned to make it look like you bought it.”
My blood went cold.
“Why?”
“Because when Hale Meridian collapses, he needs somewhere for the missing money to appear.”
The room seemed to tilt.
She continued.
“And Audrey?”
“Yes?”
“Your signature isn’t the only one he forged.”
“What else did he forge?”
“Loan documents. Board approvals. Vendor contracts.”
My knees weakened.
“How much money is missing?”
Sabrina whispered:
“Almost eleven million dollars.”
I sat down.
“And he’s trying to make it look like you took part of it.”
That was when I finally understood.
Dominic wasn’t merely preparing for divorce.
May you like
He had been preparing a scapegoat.
Me.
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