Chapter 2 - The Crack in the Foundation
As the wedding neared, the tension in the Vance household reached a boiling point. The event management company was struggling, a fact that Dominic desperately tried to hide from me. But he forgot one crucial detail: before I became his wife, I was a certified public accountant with a sharp eye for forensic auditing.
One evening, three weeks before the wedding, I walked into Dominic's home office to bring him a cup of tea. He wasn't there, but his laptop was open, displaying a series of internal balance sheets for the Vance Event Group.
My eyes instinctively scanned the columns. Something was terribly wrong.
There were massive, recurring payments to three different LLCs: Apex Logistics, Sapphire Decor, and EM Consulting. None of these names existed in the standard vendor lists I had seen in previous years. The amounts were staggering—nearly $450,000 transferred out of the company operating accounts over the last six months alone.
"What are you doing?"
Dominic's voice startled me. He was standing in the doorway, his face pale, his knuckles white as he gripped the doorframe.
"Dominic, these accounts..." I pointed at the screen. "These outgoing payments to Apex and Sapphire. The invoices look completely fabricated. There are no purchase orders attached to them. Who authorized these?"
He rushed over and slammed the laptop shut, nearly catching my fingers. "It’s company business, Vivienne. You don't need to worry about it. You’re supposed to be resting. The doctor said your blood pressure is too high."
"My blood pressure is fine, Dominic. My brain, however, is fully functional," I said, staring at him. "Those are shell companies. Someone is embezzling funds from Vance Event Group. Is it Chloe? Or Eleanor?"
"Stop it!" Dominic hissed, looking around as if his mother might be hiding in the curtains. "You don't know what you're talking about. The company is restructuring. We are handling temporary cash flow issues. It’s entirely legal."
"If it's legal, why are the transfer destination accounts registered in private offshore jurisdictions?" I pressed, my heart beginning to hammer against my ribs. "And why does this commercial loan application on your desk have my name on it as a co-guarantor? Dominic, did you forge my signature?"
He flinched. The guilt was written so clearly across his face that it felt like a physical blow to my chest.
"I had to," he whispered, his voice trembling. "The business was going under, Vivienne. Mom and Chloe... they spent too much on the wedding, on the new estate, on... everything. We needed a bridge loan. I was going to pay it back before you ever found out. I swear."
"You forged my name on a multi-million dollar liability while I am eight months pregnant with your child!" I yelled, tears of anger finally spilling over my eyelashes. "Are you insane? If this defaults, I am personally liable. My credit, my assets, everything my father gave me—"
"Your father?" Dominic laughed, a bitter, ugly sound. "What assets does your father have, Vivienne? A pension and a tiny brick house in the suburbs? Don't act like you have some grand empire to protect. I did this to keep us afloat. To keep this family from looking like failures."
"You did this to keep your mother and sister in diamonds," I said, cold realization washing over me. "And you used me as the shield. If the audit catches this, I take the fall."
"Nothing is going to happen," Dominic pleaded, reaching for my hands. "The audit is just a routine check. The hospitality conglomerate that bought our debt six months ago hasn't even looked at our books yet. We have time."
"Who bought your debt, Dominic?" I asked, a strange, chilling thought entering my mind.
"Some private equity firm called Sterling Capital," he muttered, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "They're just a silent partner. They don't care about the daily operations as long as the interest is paid."
I stared at him, my breath catching in my throat.
Sterling Capital.
The private equity firm owned entirely by Arthur Sterling. My father.
My father, whom Dominic believed was a simple, retired accountant because I had explicitly asked my dad to keep his name out of our public marriage registry to avoid fortune-hunters. My father, who had quietly bought up the Vance family's failing debt months ago because he had suspected they were mistreating me and wanted to have a nuclear option ready if they ever pushed me too far.
"Dominic," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "You need to fix this. Immediately. Go to your mother, cancel these fraudulent transfers, and remove my name from that loan."
"I can't do that, Vivienne," he said, turning his back to me. "It’s already done. Just play your part at the wedding. Once the merger goes through next month, we'll be in the clear. Just stay quiet. For once in your life, just don't make a scene."
I stood in the center of his office, feeling the last remaining threads of my affection for this man snap. He hadn't just allowed his family to disrespect me. He had actively set me up to be their financial sacrificial lamb.
I walked out of the room, went into the guest bedroom, and locked the door. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in months.
May you like
"Dad," I whispered when the deep, familiar voice answered. "I need you to look at the Vance Event Group accounts. And Dad... don't hold back anymore."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. When my father spoke, his voice was like iron. "I've been waiting for this call, Vivienne. Sleep well, my sweet girl. The storm is coming."
