Chapter 4 - The Honeymoon I Never Boarded.
The taxi pulled away from JFK while Alexander was probably ordering champagne near the gate.
I sat in the back seat with my wedding ring still on my finger.
It suddenly felt like evidence.
Dana called before we reached the Van Wyck Expressway.
"I confirmed it," she said.
"Alexander and Khloe are still legally married."
I watched Queens slide past the window.
"So my wedding was fake."
"The ceremony was real."
"That is not what I asked."
Dana paused.
"No, Sophia. Legally, you are not his wife."
The answer should have destroyed me.
Instead, it cleared something inside my head.
Alexander had spent eighteen months convincing me that our relationship was the safest thing in my life.
He remembered my father's birthday.
He knew how I took my coffee.
He learned which charity board meetings made me nervous and stood outside them with flowers.
Every detail had once looked like love.
Now I wondered how many had been research.
"The transfer to Blue Laurel was blocked," Dana continued.
"Martin called me."
"Good."
"There is more."
I closed my eyes.
"Of course there is."
"Alexander filed a request with Moreland Holdings yesterday asking to be added as an emergency signatory after marriage."
"Who approved it?"
"No one yet."
I released a breath.
"Then stop it."
"Already stopped."
"Revoke every power of attorney I ever gave him."
"You gave him one limited medical authorization and one temporary property-management authorization for your Hamptons house."
"Revoke both."
"Done."
I looked down at my ring.
"Dana, I want a complete audit."
"Of what?"
"Everything he touched."
When I reached my Manhattan apartment, the doorman smiled broadly.
"Mrs. Mercer, back already?"
The name stung.
"Change of plans, Luis."
Upstairs, white wedding flowers still filled the living room.
Alexander had insisted we send the largest arrangements here after the reception.
He said he wanted the apartment to feel like the wedding lasted a little longer.
I stared at them until I understood how much I hated them.
Then I began making calls.
My credit card team froze the supplemental cards.
The family office suspended travel reimbursements.
My bank placed an internal fraud alert on outgoing wires.
The resort reservation in Maui had been charged to my personal hospitality account.
I called the resort manager.
"Please cancel every room booked under my account except one standard room in Alexander Mercer's name."
"May I ask why?"
"You may not."
"Of course, Ms. Moreland."
That name felt better.
I canceled the private conference room too.
Then I asked the manager to remove all spa appointments, car service, dining deposits, and excursion guarantees attached to my card.
By the time Alexander's plane took off, his luxury honeymoon had become a one-room reservation with no prepaid privileges.
My phone lit up with a message from him.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Then another.
BOARDING DOOR IS CLOSING.
Then a third.
SOPHIA, THIS IS NOT FUNNY.
I typed slowly.
I KNOW.
Then I deleted it.
I wanted him confused a little longer.
Martin arrived at my apartment just after six carrying a laptop and a folder.
His face was grim.
"We found three more attempted transactions."
"How much?"
"Just under two million combined."
My heart pounded.
"Where were they going?"
"Different companies."
"Owned by Khloe?"
"Two are linked to Blue Laurel."
"And the third?"
Martin placed a corporate record in front of me.
I read the registered agent's name twice.
Judith Mercer.
Alexander's mother.
I looked at Martin.
"She was at my wedding."
"I know."
"She cried when I walked down the aisle."
Martin said nothing.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, it was the unknown number.
YOU FOUND THE MONEY.
A second message appeared.
NOW FIND OUT WHY HIS MOTHER NEEDED YOU TO SAY "I DO."
I stared at the screen.
May you like
The conspiracy had just become a family affair.
MY HUSBAND BROUGHT HIS SECRETARY ON OUR HONEYMOON
