I came home and found my husband punishing my eight-year-old daughter because he claimed she had torn his mistress’s $10,000 dress.

Part 2

Twenty minutes later, I went downstairs alone.

Vanessa had changed into one of my silk robes.

That nearly made me laugh.

Derek pointed toward two suitcases he had pulled from the closet.

“You have until midnight.”

“Fine.”

His expression changed.

He had expected me to beg.

Vanessa smiled. “See? This can be civilized.”

I poured myself a glass of water.

“Where did you buy the dress?”

She blinked. “What?”

“The ten-thousand-dollar dress.”

“Bellerose Atelier.”

“Receipt?”

Derek slammed his palm against the counter. “Why does that matter?”

“Because you’re demanding ten thousand dollars.”

Vanessa pulled a receipt from her handbag and tossed it toward me.

I photographed it.

Then I photographed the torn seam.

Her smile faded slightly.

Derek scoffed. “Playing detective?”

“No.”

I sent both photos to Ethan.

Then I walked toward the living room camera mounted above the bookshelf.

Derek followed.

“That camera hasn’t worked in months.”

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