On my wedding day, my husband’s ex showed up at our bridal car and said, ‘Let me ride with you.’ He answered, ‘Laurel, just shift over a little so she can fit.’ I stepped out of the bridal car in my wedding gown and walked back into my parents’ house.

He laughed.

“Sweetheart, this is business. Let the professionals handle it.”

Nobody joined his laughter.

Rebecca distributed several folders among the directors.

“Mr. Caldwell,” she said, “this meeting concerns substantial financial irregularities discovered during an independent investigation.”

Ethan’s smile weakened.

“What irregularities?”

I opened the first folder.

“Two hundred eighty-seven thousand dollars paid to Vanessa’s consulting company.”

Vanessa turned pale.

Ethan leaned closer.

“Those were legitimate business expenses.”

“Then you’ll have no problem explaining the invoices for services nobody can verify.”

He swallowed.

I went on.

“There’s also another $116,000 in reimbursements charged to the company. Hotels. Jewelry. Luxury vacations.”

Vanessa hid her hands beneath the table.

Ethan glared at me.

“You’ve been spying on me?”

“I’ve been auditing my company.”

He scoffed.

“Your company? Your father owns Whitmore Development.”

I turned toward Rebecca.

She placed a certified ownership summary on the table.

“For the record,” she said, “Laurel Whitmore holds sixty-eight percent of the voting shares.”