“Don’t insult me with lies.”
His voice turned cold.
“Claire hasn’t received a single dollar.”
He stepped closer.
“And I think I know why.”
The silence became unbearable.
Even my baby stopped making sounds.
Then my grandfather said something that sent a chill down my spine.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Mark opened his mouth—
But no words came out.
Vivian forced a tight smile.
“Edward, I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“Yes,” Mark added quickly, “it must be a banking error—”
My grandfather let out a low, humorless laugh.
“No.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope.
“I don’t believe in errors.”
Inside were documents.
Bank statements.
Transfer records.
Dates.
Amounts.
“I’ve been sending $250,000 every month for four years.”
The room spun.
Four years.
That was twelve million dollars.
Twelve million.
And I had never seen a single cent.
“The money was transferred into a joint account,” my grandfather continued.
He looked directly at Mark.
“The account you opened after the wedding.”
Mark’s face went pale.
“That’s impossible…”
But my grandfather placed another document on the hospital table.
“Here’s the bank confirmation.”
He tapped the page.
“The money was withdrawn. Every month.”
Vivian let out a small, broken sound.
“And do you know what’s interesting?” my grandfather said quietly.
His eyes burned with cold fury.
“The luxury spending started at the exact same time.”
I looked at the shopping bags on the floor.
Handbags.
Shoes.
Jewelry.
Suddenly—
Everything made sense.
The “successful deals.”
The expensive gifts for his mother.
The extravagant trips.
All of it—
Paid for with money meant for me.
Tears streamed down my face.
“You stole it?” I whispered.
