Chapter 2: The Fracture
Mara’s eyes darted frantically between Julian and Clara. The air in the dining room grew thick with unspoken accusations.
"The truth?" Mara scoffed, a defensive armor instantly snapping into place over her delicate features. "You're caught pawing at the help in the middle of the night, and you want to talk about truth?"
Julian didn't flinch. "Don't deflect, Mara. The offshore accounts. The missing ledgers from my father's safe."
Sensing the impending explosion, Clara took her chance. She released her white-knuckled grip on the serving tray and slipped silently out of the room, her rubber-soled shoes making no sound on the marble floor.
Mara’s face paled. The shock in her eyes shifted into a calculated, cornered panic. "You're paranoid, Julian. You're trying to justify your affair with a—"
"Stop it," Julian interrupted, his voice echoing sharply off the glass table. "I haven't touched her. But she cleans the study. She was there Tuesday night. The night the hard drives were wiped."
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Mara tightened the belt of her silk robe, her chin lifting in defiance. "You'd take the word of a maid over your own wife?"
"Right now," Julian said softly, the heartbreak evident in his posture, "I’d take the word of a stranger on the street over yours."
