PART 2: My husband gave me money every week to pay the cleaning lady

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A mechanical, automated voice echoed through the house: “Front door opened. Guest access code activated.”

Bruno froze, his grip on my wrist loosening just a fraction. “What the hell? Who is that? Did you invite someone over?”

“No,” I whispered, ripping my hand out of his grip, dropping the pen.

Heavy, frantic footsteps began racing up the stairs. But it wasn’t the sound of one person. It sounded like a stampede.

Before Bruno could stand up from his chair, the office door was violently thrown open.

Standing in the doorway was Chloe Vance. Her hair was completely disheveled, her expensive makeup smeared across her pale face, and she was clutching a designer handbag to her chest as if it were a shield. She was trembling violently, her eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated terror.

“Bruno!” Chloe shrieked, her voice cracking into a panicked sob. “Bruno, we have to go! We have to leave right now!”

Bruno stood up, his confusion turning into anger. “Chloe? What the hell are you doing here?! I told you never to come to the house! Arthur is here, we’re in the middle of—”

“I don’t care about the paper!” Chloe screamed, stepping into the room and grabbing Bruno’s lapels. “The police just raided the corporate office! They have everything, Bruno! They have the offshore accounts, the forged medical records, the dummy trust files—all of it!”

Bruno turned pale, his jaw dropping. “What? That’s impossible! Who could have given them access to the secure server? Only you and I have the keys!”

Chloe slowly turned her head, her tear-filled, venomous eyes locking onto me. She raised a trembling finger, pointing it directly at my face.

“Her,” Chloe whispered, her voice shaking with an ancient rage. “The cleaning lady. She didn’t just clean your office, Bruno. She’s been using your administrative login for the last three weeks from the smart-vacuum’s embedded Wi-Fi router. The feds aren’t just coming for the money, Bruno…”

Chloe swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead as she looked toward the open window.

“They brought a forensics team. They’re digging up the backyard right now. They found your first wife.”