Chapter 2 — Every Lie Has a Price

Chapter 2 — Every Lie Has a Price
Daniel pushed himself away from the table so quickly his chair crashed onto the marble floor.
"You can't divorce me!"
"I won't sign anything!"
"You need me!"
I looked at him with complete calm.
"No."
"I needed you three years ago."
"I don't anymore."
Evelyn finally found her voice.
"This is absurd!"
"Daniel supported you!"
My attorney raised an eyebrow.
"Actually..."
He handed Evelyn several financial statements.
"For the last three years every mortgage payment, utility bill, vehicle payment, insurance premium, and household salary was paid from Mrs. Harrison's personal accounts."
Evelyn's lips parted.
Richard added quietly,
"Mr. Carter has not contributed financially to this property at any point."
Daniel turned toward me.
"You lied."
"I never lied."
"You simply never asked."
The detective stepped forward.
"Mrs. Harrison filed multiple recordings documenting repeated domestic assaults."
Daniel froze.
"What recordings?"
I reached into my handbag.
"The ones you made."
He frowned.
"I never—"
"You made them."
"Every slap."
"Every threat."
"Every time your mother encouraged you."
I placed the tiny voice recorder on the table.
Then another.
Then another.
Six identical devices.
Hidden throughout the house.
Kitchen.
Living room.
Bedroom.
Garage.
Study.
Hallway.
Evelyn suddenly couldn't breathe.
"You recorded us?"
"For six months."
The detective opened a laptop.
The room filled with Daniel's voice.
"A wife has to obey."
Another clip.
"Nobody would believe you."
Another.
The unmistakable sound of a slap.
Then Evelyn laughing.
Another recording.
Daniel saying,
"If she ever leaves, she'll leave with nothing."
The detective quietly paused the audio.
"I think we've heard enough."
Daniel stumbled backward.
His confidence had vanished.
He looked smaller somehow.
Like a man realizing the walls around him had never belonged to him.
The process server handed him official documents.
"Protective order."
Daniel whispered,
"...You planned all this."
May you like
I nodded.
"For six months."