Chapter 2 - THE CAR
The Bentley was mine.
That fact somehow became the first argument in the driveway.
Daniel followed me outside.
“You are not taking that car.”
I stopped beside it.
“Why?”
“It was purchased during the marriage.”
“No.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“My company bought it two years before we married. Hawthorne transferred title to me personally when I sold my shares.”
“You told everyone it was ours.”
“I told people nothing.”
His mouth tightened.
“You let me drive it.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the mansion.
Through the tall foyer windows, relatives were still standing around with phones in their hands.
Evelyn appeared behind the glass.
Watching.
“Come inside,” Daniel said.
“No.”
“We talk privately.”
“You slapped me publicly.”
His eyes hardened.
“Stop saying it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
“It was one moment.”
“Yes.”
“One moment after you embarrassed my mother in front of everyone.”
I stared at him.
“She told me to leave my jewelry because she thinks your family owns it.”
“She’s upset.”
“She’s been upset on ten thousand dollars a month for four years.”
His expression shifted.
Tiny.
There.
“Did she know where that money came from?”
“What?”
“Did Evelyn know I was paying it?”
Daniel hesitated.
That frightened me more than the answer.
“Daniel.”
“She knew we supported her.”
“We?”
“We’re married.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He looked away.
I unlocked the Bentley.
“You’ve been telling her you pay the allowance.”
He said nothing.
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
“Of course.”
“Emily.”
“Move.”
He stepped closer instead.
For half a second, my body remembered the slap before my mind did.
I took one step back.
Daniel saw.
His face changed.
“Come on.”
He held both hands out.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
A security light above the garage switched on.
The house cameras had activated the new access protocol.
Daniel looked upward.
Then at me.
“Did you lock me out?”
“No.”
“Your app says residential credentials suspended.”
“Temporary third-party access.”
“I live here.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m not third party.”
Legally, that was more complicated.
I knew enough not to argue property law in a driveway.
“My attorney can sort access.”
“You called a lawyer?”
“The app did.”
He stared.
The family office protocol had notified Grace Chen, my estate and business attorney.
Good.
I had not thought far enough to call her myself.
My phone rang.
Grace.
I answered.
“Emily?”
“Yes.”
“Are you safe?”
I looked at Daniel.
“Yes.”
“Are you injured?”
“My husband slapped me.”
Daniel turned away.
Grace became silent.
Then:
“Do not go back inside alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Where are you going?”
“Hotel.”
“No. Your sister?”
“I don’t have one nearby.”
“Then come to my house.”
That surprised me.
“You don’t have to—”
“Emily.”
I stopped.
“Drive somewhere public first. I’m calling security at the property and documenting the access suspension. Do not sign anything Daniel gives you.”
Daniel heard.
“Give me the phone.”
I laughed.
“No.”
“Emily, this is our marriage.”
I opened the car door.
Grace said:
“Do not stay in the driveway.”
I got in.
Daniel placed one hand on the door.
Not grabbing me.
Not yet.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said quietly, “you are going to regret turning a marital argument into a financial war.”
I looked up at him.
May you like
“I think the war started before tonight.”
Then I closed the door.
