My attorney, Nora Vance, placed a document on the table. “Mrs. Hale, it becomes less ridiculous when attempted fraud, coercion, and conspiracy are recorded and supported by signed acknowledgment.”
Ethan’s face drained. “Conspiracy?”
Nora nodded. “Including transfer documents prepared before the wedding. We have the metadata. They were created eight days ago.”
Lydia faltered. “You hacked our files?”
Nora smiled coldly. “No. Your office printer stores logs. Your assistant cooperated once she realized her name was on the chain.”
That was when Lydia understood she had lost. Greed breeds carelessness, and carelessness leaves evidence.
The officers requested the folder. The notary Lydia brought tried to explain, claiming he believed this was consensual planning. Then Nora pointed out the clause, the timing, the pressure. He fell silent.
Ethan turned to me, softer now. “Elena, please. We can fix this.”
For a moment, I almost felt pity. Then I remembered him at the window, saying nothing.
“You knew,” I said.
He said nothing.
Lydia straightened. “You think money protects you?”
“No,” I said. “Preparation does.”