Ryan shoved the documents back into the envelope, clearly trying to regain control. “Fine,” he said, lowering his voice like a salesman switching tactics. “Let’s talk inside.”
“No,” I said.
His eyes flashed. “You think you’re so smart because you have lawyers. But you made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“You wired the down payment from an account I had access to,” he said. “That means it’s marital money. That means—”
“That means you don’t understand how any of this works,” I cut in.
He stepped closer, crowding the doorway. “Emily, open the door. Right now.”
I looked at him—really looked. The man I had married had always been charming in public and subtle in private. He rarely raised his voice. He didn’t need to. He used tone, timing, and guilt. He used affection like a leash.
But now that leash had snapped, and he was panicking.
I lifted my phone. “You’re not coming in. I changed the code this morning. And I changed something else too.”
Ryan frowned.
“I called your HR department,” I said. “Not to accuse you of stealing. I don’t care about revenge gossip. I just wanted confirmation of something.”
He swallowed. “What?”