Chapter 2
John Law messaged me again.
[Ms. Sutton, I have some information about Mr. Carter that I believe is important to your interests.]
This time, I replied: [Tuesday afternoon, Starbucks at Central Plaza.]
Tuesday came, and I showed up right on time.
John Law was in his thirties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looking a bit conflicted.
"Ms. Sutton, I've been the legal counsel at Adam's company for two years. Lately, things inside the company have gotten so bad I just couldn't stand by and watch anymore, so I decided to reach out to you," he said.
"What's going on?" I asked.
He lowered his voice. "Adam and Emily registered their marriage at the family court three years ago. Legally, Emily is his wife. What you and Adam had was just a ceremony, not a real marriage in the eyes of the law."
I just sipped my coffee in silence.
"You already knew?" he looked at me, clearly shocked.
"I did," I replied.
"Then you—" he started.
"Is there anything else?" I interrupted, my tone calm and unbothered.
John paused, then pulled a USB drive out of his bag.
"This has the company's financial records from the past two years. Adam used your name as guarantor for several deals—one of them is for 10 million dollars," he said.
I set my coffee cup down.
"In my name?" I asked.
"Yeah, your ID number, your signature—he faked them all. If the company goes under, you could end up on the hook for the debt," he said.
I took the USB.
"Thanks," I said.
"So, Ms. Sutton, what are you going to do about it?" he asked.
I stood up.
"I'll do what needs to be done," I replied.
Back in the car, I called Sophie.
"Dig into every loan and guarantee that's been set up with my ID. Check them all, one by one—don't miss a thing," I said.
"What happened?" she asked.
"He didn't just lie about our marriage—he's been milking me for money like I'm his own ATM," I replied.
Sophie went quiet for a few seconds.
"Claire, should we just get a lawyer and sue him?" she asked.
"No rush," I replied.
I stared out the window.
"His company's bidding for that smart campus project in Northshore, right?" I asked.
"Yeah, that's the biggest project of the year," she replied.
"Did you check who the client is for that project?" I asked.
Sophie flipped through her files.
"It's a subsidiary of Visionary Holdings—wait, Claire, aren't you the real boss behind Visionary Holdings?" she asked.
"So you get it now," I said.
"He's bidding for your company's project? And he doesn't even know it?" she asked.
I didn't even crack a smile.
"There's a lot he doesn't know," I said.
When I got home that night, Adam was actually there for once.
"Back late tonight?" he asked, scrolling through his phone on the couch.
"Just went shopping," I replied.
"Buy anything?" he asked.
"Nothing much," I replied.
He just gave a noncommittal "mm" and barely looked up from his phone.
I went to the kitchen, heated up some food, and ate alone.
Three years of marriage—if you could even call it that—had been like this.
He never asked where I went or what I did during the day.
In his eyes, I was just the housewife who cooked and cleaned every day—no job, no income, depending on his bank card for everything.
What he didn't know was that I never spent a single cent from that card.
I had my own account, and there was more money in it than his company made in an entire year.
Adam's phone rang.
He picked up and walked out to the balcony.
"Yeah Don't worry, everything's under control. The bid's ready, we'll submit it next week," Adam said.
He paused for a moment.
"I know, if we land this deal, the company will be solid," he added.
He paused again, his voice getting noticeably softer.
"Okay, once things settle down Yeah, I get it," Adam said.
He hung up and came back inside, flashing me a quick smile.
"There's a big project at work, so things will be hectic for a bit," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
"I probably won't be home much these days," he added.
"Okay," I said.
He looked at me, saw how compliant I was, and patted me gently on the head.
"You've worked hard," he said.
I kept my head down, washing the dishes.
Hard work? Please, not hard at all. Watching you step right onto the chessboard I've set up for you? That's no trouble at all.