Chapter 4: What Daniel Reeves Knew
Claire did not take the phone out of her pocket.
She waited.
The seatbelt sign went dark.
The flight attendant began moving through the cabin with the drinks cart, and Marcus immediately reached for his phone.
"The flight mode policy applies to everyone," Claire said pleasantly.
"I'm checking the time."
"The time is on the screen in front of you."
His hand stopped.
He looked at her with something she had not seen from him in years — not anger, not charm, but a kind of cold, careful attention.
He was reassessing her.
Measuring how much she knew against how much she was showing.
She held his gaze and said nothing.
Chloe accepted a glass of water from the attendant.
Her hand was not entirely steady.
"Marcus," Chloe said quietly.
"I think you should tell her."
"Chloe." His voice was a warning.
"Tell me what?" Claire said.
"It's nothing." Marcus turned to the window.
"Chloe, don't."
"She already has the emails," Chloe said.
She set her water down.
"She's going to find out anyway.
And I'm not—" She stopped.
Started again.
"I'm not going to sit here and let her think I knew about all of it.
Because I didn't."
Claire turned to face her fully.
"What didn't you know about?"
Chloe looked at Marcus one more time.
He was staring at the window, his profile rigid.
"Daniel Reeves is his business partner," Chloe said.
"They've been running a second company together for almost two years.
A holding company.
Marcus moved money from your joint accounts into it in stages — small enough transfers that they wouldn't trigger an automatic alert." She paused.
"I found out three weeks ago.
I told him he had to tell you or I would."
"And instead," Claire said, "he booked two seats to Miami."
Chloe's chin dropped slightly.
"Yes."
The drinks cart rattled past.
Marcus still did not turn from the window.
"How much?" Claire asked.
Chloe shook her head.
"I only saw one statement.
It was over four hundred thousand dollars."
The number landed quietly.
Claire had suspected the transfer was significant — her lawyer had flagged movement in the joint investment account, but the full picture had not yet been assembled.
Four hundred thousand.
Her design business had taken six years to build to that level of capital.
She had worked through Maya's infancy, through two recessions, through every late night Marcus had claimed was a business dinner.
She opened the leather folder to the financial pages and found the account summary her lawyer had printed that morning.
The joint investment account showed a current balance of eleven thousand dollars.
It had held four hundred and thirty-two thousand dollars in January.
"How long have you known about the holding company?" Claire asked.
"Since August," Chloe said.
"He told me it was a legitimate investment vehicle.
That it was going to fund our—" She stopped.
"Your new life together," Claire finished.
Chloe looked at her lap.
"He told me the same thing," Claire said.
Not bitterly.
Just as a fact.
Marcus turned from the window.
His expression had shifted again — the cold calculation was gone, replaced by something that might have been desperation if she had not known him so well.
She knew it was performance.
"Claire.
I can fix this.
The money can be returned.
Daniel and I can restructure the whole arrangement.
You don't need to involve lawyers.
You don't need to make this ugly."
"It's already ugly, Marcus."
"Not publicly.
Not yet." He leaned forward.
"Think about what a public financial dispute does to your business.
Your clients.
Your reputation is tied to mine whether you like it or not."
Claire looked at him for a long moment.
"My lawyer filed a freezing order on the holding company's accounts at seven-fifteen this morning," she said.
"Daniel Reeves received a letter from a process server at his home address at eight forty-five.
I imagine he's already called you several times."
Marcus reached for his phone without thinking.
"Flight mode," Claire said.
His hand dropped.
May you like
She closed the folder.
Outside, there was nothing but cloud.
