Sienna's POV
Who else have you told about this, Sienna?
Damien's voice was ice. A stranger's voice coming from my husband's mouth.
I stared at him, the documents still scattered across his desk between us. No one. I just found this thirty seconds ago. Damien, what
Good. He moved faster than I expected, snatching the folder from my hands. Then we can fix this before it becomes a problem.
Fix it? My voice rose. Damien, this isn't a typo on a tax form. This is securities fraud. This is— I grabbed another page, my hands shaking. This shell company in the Caymans? It doesn't exist. These earnings reports are completely fabricated. And Uncle Marcus's signature is on everything.
Damien's jaw tightened. You're overreacting.
I'm a prosecutor! The words exploded out of me. I've put people in prison for exactly this kind of fraud. I know what I'm looking at!
Sienna, calm down—
Don't tell me to calm down! I backed away from the desk, my mind racing. How long has this been going on? Since the beginning? Has your entire company been built on lies?
He didn't answer. That silence told me everything.
My legs felt weak. I sank into the chair behind me, still clutching the documents. Oh my God. Uncle Marcus has been using your company to launder money. For how long?
It's complicated.
Complicated? I laughed, but it sounded hysterical. Damien, I've spent the last three years prosecuting white-collar criminals. There's nothing complicated about this. It's fraud. It's illegal. And if I found this by accident, how long before someone else does?
Damien moved around the desk toward me. Which is why we need to be smart about this. We can unwind it carefully, make it look legitimate
We? I stood up, backing away from him. There is no 'we' in criminal conspiracy, Damien. I'm an officer of the court. I took an oath.
I'm your husband. His voice cracked. Doesn't that mean anything?
The pain in his words hit me like a punch. I loved this man. I'd built my life around him. But I'd also sworn to uphold the law.
Of course it means something, I whispered. That's why I'm talking to you instead of calling the FBI right now. That's why I'm giving you a chance to explain, to fix this before
Before what? You report me? His eyes went hard again. You'd send your own husband to prison?
If you committed crimes? Yes. But my voice wavered. Damien, please. Tell me you didn't know. Tell me Marcus did this behind your back and you had no idea.
The lie would have been so easy. He could have claimed ignorance, blamed everything on Marcus, and maybe I would have believed him because I wanted to.
Instead, he said nothing.
My heart shattered.
You knew. It wasn't a question. All this time, you knew what he was doing. You let him use your company to commit fraud.
It's not that simple
It's exactly that simple! I threw the documents at him. Papers scattered like snow. You broke the law, Damien. You built an empire on stolen money and lies, and I— My voice broke. I defended you to everyone. When people questioned why you grew so fast, I told them you were brilliant. When the SEC started sniffing around last year, I told them my husband was honest.
Sienna, please
I need time to think. I moved toward the door. I need to figure out what to do with this.
His hand caught my wrist. Not hard, but firm enough to stop me.
What are you going to do? he asked quietly.
I looked down at his hand on my wrist, then up at his face. The man I'd loved for five years looked terrified.
Good. He should be.
I don't know yet, I said honestly. But Damien, if you don't fix this, if you don't come clean and make this right, I will. I'll report everything I found to the DA's office myself.
You'd destroy me.
You destroyed yourself! Tears burned my eyes. I'm just trying to figure out if I should save you or let you drown.
I pulled my wrist free and walked out of his study.
Upstairs in our bedroom, I locked the door and spread the documents across the bed. My prosecutor brain took over, pushing aside the heartbroken wife.
The fraud went back seven years. Before we even got married. Uncle Marcus had been funneling money through Zhao Technologies since Damien was barely off the ground, using shell companies to hide the sources. Some of it looked like standard creative accounting, but buried deeper—
My blood ran cold.
These weren't just shell companies for tax purposes. The money trail led back to Chinese investment firms with ties to the government. Marcus wasn't just committing fraud. He was selling American technology secrets.
This wasn't white-collar crime. This was espionage.
And Damien had to know. Had to.
I spent hours going through every page, building the case in my mind the way I'd done dozens of times before. By dawn, I knew exactly how to prosecute this. Knew which laws had been broken, which agencies to contact, how to build an airtight case.
I also knew it would destroy my husband, my uncle, and my marriage.
My phone buzzed. A text from Uncle Marcus: Good morning, dear. Coffee this week? I miss our talks.
I stared at his message, thinking of his kind smile, his wedding toast, how he'd walked me down the aisle when my father was too sick to do it.
He'd used me. Used my relationship with Damien to get close, to control, to steal.
Another text, this time from Damien: I'm sorry. Can we talk?
I typed back: We need to talk about your financials. Everything. No more lies.
His response came immediately: Tonight. I'll explain everything. I promise.
I didn't believe him. But I needed to give him one more chance—for the woman I'd been yesterday who still loved him. For the marriage I'd thought was perfect.
When Damien came home that evening, I was waiting in the living room with all the documents organized into neat stacks. Evidence. Timeline. Shell companies. Everything.
He stopped in the doorway, his face pale.
Sit down, I said quietly. We need to talk.
He sat across from me, hands clasped between his knees like a defendant awaiting sentencing.
I spent all day analyzing these documents, I began, keeping my voice steady. Damien, this isn't just fraud. The money trail leads to foreign intelligence. Uncle Marcus has been selling American technology secrets through your company.
His face went white. That's impossible. Marcus wouldn't—
The evidence is right here. I pushed a stack toward him. And unless you can prove you had no knowledge of this, you're complicit in espionage.
Damien's hands shook as he picked up the documents. I watched him read, watched understanding dawn in his eyes.
Oh God, he whispered. I didn't know. Sienna, I swear I didn't know about the foreign connections. Marcus told me it was just creative accounting to protect us from—
From what?
His phone rang. Marcus's name flashed on the screen.
We both stared at it.
Don't answer, I said.
Damien answered.
Marcus, I need to ask you something— He fell silent, listening. His face drained of all color. I understand. Yes. Tonight. I'll handle it.
He hung up.
When he looked at me, I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before.
Fear.
What did he say? I demanded.
Damien stood slowly. He knows you found the files. He wants to meet. Both of us.
How does he know?
He has the house monitored. Sienna, he's been watching us this whole time.
My skin crawled. We need to go to the FBI. Right now.
He said if we contact any authorities, he'll release evidence that frames you for the fraud. Documents with your digital signature, your handwriting. He's been preparing for this possibility for years.
I couldn't breathe. That's insane. I'm the prosecutor trying to stop this!
I know. Damien's voice was hollow. But Marcus doesn't leave loose ends. And Sienna, you just became the biggest loose end of all.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
A photo of me and Lily at lunch yesterday, circled in red.
The message: Tell anyone, and your best friend dies first. Meet me at the marina. 8 PM. Come alone.