Chapter 2 - The Woman Behind the Money
Aaron called twenty-three times that afternoon.
I knew because when I finally turned my phone back on, twenty-three missed-call notifications appeared one after another.
Then came the messages.
We need to talk.
You misunderstood what happened.
Call me.
Claire, this has gone far enough.
That last message almost made me laugh.
Aaron still believed he got to decide when something had gone far enough.
I placed the phone face down.
Nathan was still staring at my grandfather's documents.
“Start from the beginning,” he said.
So I did.
My grandfather, Edward Hale, had never been famous.
That was intentional.
He disliked photographs, avoided interviews and considered public displays of wealth vulgar.
When I was twelve, he taught me compound interest using pennies and a yellow legal pad.
When I was sixteen, he gave me annual reports instead of birthday money.
When I was twenty-one, he told me something I never forgot.
“People reveal themselves when they believe you have nothing they need.”
Years later, I understood why.
Hale Meridian Partners operated quietly.
It provided capital to businesses through layered investment vehicles, private credit agreements and minority equity positions.
My grandfather had given me a stake before Aaron and I ever met.
I never hid it because I was ashamed.
I kept it private because my grandfather had asked me to.
And because I wanted one thing in my life that wasn't connected to the Prescott name.
Aaron knew my family had money.
He simply assumed it was ordinary old-family money.
A few properties.
A trust.
Investments.
He never asked.
That was Aaron's greatest weakness.
He noticed only what he considered useful.
Nathan pushed the papers toward me.
“Prescott Global has substantial exposure to Hale Meridian.”
“How substantial?”
“Enough that Aaron's lawyers are going to become very interested in your finances.”
“They can't touch premarital assets.”
“The prenup is strong. But that isn't what concerns me.”
“What does?”
“If Aaron realizes your position, he may think you're using Hale Meridian against him.”
“I'm not.”
“I know that. We need to make sure everyone else knows it too.”
I nodded.
“Then document everything.”
Nathan smiled faintly.
“You really did go to law school.”
“I remember enough.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't Aaron.
It was an unknown number.
I answered.
“Claire?”
A woman's voice.
Quiet.
Unsteady.
I knew it immediately.
“Jasmine.”
Silence.
Then:
“Please don't hang up.”
I nearly did.
“What do you want?”
“I need to explain last night.”
“No, you don't.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then enlighten me.”
Her breathing trembled.
“Aaron wasn't with me because we're having an affair.”
I said nothing.
“I know what people think,” she continued. “I know what it looks like.”
“What does it look like, Jasmine?”
She hesitated.
“Bad.”
“That's one word.”
“I was at the airport.”
That made me pause.
“Why?”
“I was leaving.”
“Leaving where?”
“Chicago.”
“Why?”
Another silence.
Then she whispered:
“Because I found something at Prescott Global I wasn't supposed to find.”
I sat straighter.
Nathan noticed immediately.
“What?”
“I can't say this over the phone.”
“Then why call?”
“Because Aaron doesn't know everything either.”
I looked toward Nathan.
He mouthed, What is it?
I raised one finger.
“Where are you?”
“At a hotel near the airport.”
“Is Aaron there?”
“No.”
“Does he know you're calling me?”
“No.”
“What did you find?”
“I told you, I can't—”
“Then we're finished.”
“Wait.”
Her voice cracked.
“Claire, somebody accessed my apartment last night.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What?”
“I came home after work. My door was unlocked. Nothing obvious was missing, but someone had gone through my desk.”
“And you called Aaron.”
“He's my boss.”
“He's everybody's boss.”
“He was the only person I thought could help.”
I didn't know whether to believe her.
Maybe that was the point.
“What did you find?” I asked again.
This time Jasmine answered.
“A payment trail.”
Nathan was watching me closely.
“What kind?”
“Money moving through vendors that don't seem to exist.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
I felt something cold move through me.
“Who authorized it?”
“I don't know.”
“You must have some idea.”
“I do.”
“Who?”
She lowered her voice.
“Someone with Prescott-level authorization.”
Aaron.
Or someone in his family.
“Meet me,” Jasmine said.
“No.”
“Claire, please.”
“You should contact the police.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because someone deleted the original files after I accessed them.”
“Then how do you know—”
“I copied them first.”
Silence filled Nathan's office.
“Where are the copies?”
“Not with me.”
“Where?”
“I'll tell you in person.”
I closed my eyes.
Every sensible instinct told me to stay away.
My marriage was ending.
Whatever happened inside Prescott Global was Aaron's problem now.
Then Jasmine said something that changed my mind.
“One of the payments went to a company connected to Hale Meridian.”
My eyes opened.
“What did you say?”
“Hale Meridian. I recognized the name because I saw it in some financing documents.”
Nathan stood.
“Claire?” he whispered.
I ignored him.
“Send me the hotel address.”
“Will you come?”
“I'll decide after I see it.”
“Please don't tell Aaron.”
“Why?”
Her answer was barely audible.
“Because I don't know whether he's protecting me or protecting himself.”
The call ended.
Nathan stared at me.
“What happened?”
I told him.
By the time I finished, his expression had changed completely.
“You are not meeting her alone.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Claire, if there are fraudulent payments touching Hale Meridian—”
“I know.”
“This divorce just became secondary.”
“No.”
Nathan frowned.
“No?”
“The divorce stays exactly where it is.”
“Even if Aaron is innocent?”
I looked toward the darkened window.
“That wouldn't undo three years.”
Nathan didn't argue.
He understood.
Infidelity wasn't the only way to betray a marriage.
Neglect could do it.
Humiliation could do it.
Being treated as furniture in your own life could do it.
At five-thirty, Nathan and I left his office.
My phone rang as we reached the elevator.
Aaron.
I answered.
“What?”
“Finally.”
He sounded exhausted.
“Where are you?”
“None of your business.”
“Jasmine disappeared.”
My eyes met Nathan's.
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
“Maybe she doesn't want to talk to you.”
“This isn't funny.”
“I wasn't joking.”
“Claire, listen to me carefully. If Jasmine contacts you—”
“What?”
Silence.
Then Aaron said:
“Don't meet her.”
Every muscle in my body became still.
“Why?”
“I can't explain yet.”
“That phrase seems popular today.”
“Claire.”
There was something in his voice I had rarely heard.
Fear.
“Stay away from Jasmine.”
“Why?”
“Because she has something people are willing to hurt her for.”
My breath caught.
Aaron continued.
“And if she called you, they may already know you're involved.”
The elevator doors opened.
Nathan stepped inside.
I remained where I was.
“Aaron,” I said quietly, “who are ‘they’?”
There was a pause.
Then my husband answered.
May you like
“My father.”
And for the first time since sending that message at 3:17 in the morning, I realized my marriage might not be the darkest secret inside the Prescott family.
