Chapter 2

The officers collected the three transfer slips into an evidence bag.

“We’ll verify these,” the older officer said, looking at me. “Lily, you say these transfers were at Dylan Reed’s instruction. Besides the approval forms, do you have any other evidence?”

“Yes.”

I took out my phone and opened a recording.

“On March 10 this year, when he asked me to transfer the first three million, I recorded it.”

Dylan’s expression changed.

He took a step forward, but the younger officer blocked him again.

“Lily, when did you record that?”

“The day you told me to move the money.”

“You—”

“Want me to play it for the officers?”

I didn’t wait for his answer and hit play.

Dylan’s voice came through the phone, carrying that gentle tone I knew too well.

“Babe, the company’s cash flow is tight this month. Help me move the three million from the reserve fund into this account. Once the project payment comes in next week, I’ll put it back.”

“Which account?” That was my voice.

“I’ll send it to you on SnapChat.”

“Whose account is this?”

“The partner’s. Don’t worry, I checked it.”

I paused the recording there.

“There’s more,” I said.

Dylan’s face had already gone from white to gray.

“Lily, you actually—”

“I actually kept evidence?” I looked at him. “Dylan, you had me moving money for you more than ten times in three years of marriage, and every time it was ‘paid back next week.’ Was it too much for me to keep a record?”

He went silent.

The officers exchanged a look.

The older one asked, “Are you planning to submit these recordings as evidence?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. We’ll send them for technical verification.”

Dylan suddenly laughed, and the sound sent a chill down my spine.

“Lily, you think that’s all?” He looked at me. “You think I came here today to negotiate with you?”

He pulled a few sheets of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“While you were working at my company, you used your position to transfer eight million in three separate payments. I’ve already hired a lawyer and filed for embezzlement.”

He slammed the papers onto the coffee table.

“These are the copies of the lawsuit. It’s officially served today.”

I didn’t look at the papers.

I looked at him.

“You’re suing me for embezzlement?”

“Yes.”

“You knew damn well the transfers were something you told me to do.”

“Do you have proof?” He threw my words back at me. “Recordings can be edited. Approval forms can be forged. What makes you think you can prove I ordered it?”

The living room went quiet for a few seconds.

Then I suddenly understood something.

He wasn’t here to solve a problem.

He was here to destroy me.