Chapter 4 - The Freeze
Wade let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh, pulling his phone from his pocket. "You can't do that, Ivy! We're married! You can't just cut me off! I have rights! I have a lawyer!"
He furiously tapped his screen, trying to open his banking app.
A red alert popped up across his screen: ACCOUNT FROZEN. CONTACT PRIMARY ACCOUNT HOLDER.
"What... what is this?" Wade gasped, his fingers trembling as he tried to open his secondary investment app.
ACCESS DENIED. CREDENTIALS REVOKED.
"Your checking account, your investment portfolio, and your corporate credit lines were all underwritten by the Vance Family Trust," Arthur explained with cold, legal precision. "As of 9:15 this morning, those accounts have been frozen pending a full forensic audit of the fourteen hundred thousand dollars you embezzled from Ivy’s private accounts over the last two years."
"Embezzled?!" Wade yelled, his face turning pale. "I spent that money on our lifestyle! On business development!"
"You spent eighty thousand dollars on a mistress in the Gold Coast," I countered, my voice dead steady. "You spent thirty thousand on private gambling clubs in Macao. And you spent two hundred thousand funding your mother’s failed real estate ventures in Indiana."
Wade dropped his phone onto the quartz island. It bounced with a sharp crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of glass.
"Ivy... please," Wade rasped, dropping his hands to his sides, his arrogant demeanor completely collapsing into pathetic desperation. "Please, don't do this. I made mistakes! I was under so much stress! My mother pushed me... she kept telling me I needed to take control!"
"You are thirty-four years old, Wade," I said, taking a step toward him. "You chose to stand in that doorway. You chose to cross your arms. You chose to smile while your mother poured ice water over my surgical wound."
"I was wrong! I'll apologize! I'll never let her near you again!" Wade pleaded, reaching out toward me.
The security guard instantly stepped between us, his massive frame blocking Wade completely.
The locksmith stepped forward, holding a heavy battery-powered drill.
"Arthur," the locksmith said. "Which doors are we re-keying?"
"All of them," Arthur replied. "The front entrance, the private elevator access, the service doors, and the garage gates. Change the biometric codes immediately."
"Ivy!" Wade screamed as the security guard began guiding him toward the front doors. "You can't leave me with nothing! I don't have a car! My BMW is in the garage!"
"Correction, Mr. Miller," Arthur interjected, holding up a repossession notice. "The 2026 BMW M5 was leased under Vance Enterprise Logistics. The tow truck is currently hooking it up in the basement garage. Your personal items—clothing, shoes, and toiletries—have been packed into three duffel bags and placed in the ground floor holding area."
Wade stared at me, his eyes wide with horror as he realized the absolute, terrifying scope of my response. He wasn't just losing a wife; he was losing his home, his luxury lifestyle, his reputation, and his freedom.
"You're a monster, Ivy!" Wade spat, his voice cracking with dry, hysterical sobs as the security guard escorted him through the mahogany doors. "You built a trap for me!"
"No, Wade," I said softly as the heavy oak door began to close. "I built an empire. You were just a guest who forgot his place."
The door clicked shut with a heavy, final THUD.
The locksmith immediately went to work, the high-pitched whine of the drill echoing through the foyer as the old lock cylinders were removed.
Dr. Rostova guided me back to the sofa, gently placing a warm, dry blanket over my shoulders. "Lie down, Ivy. I'm going to clean this incision properly and start you on an IV antibiotic course right now."
May you like
I laid my head back against the velvet cushions, closing my eyes.
For the first time in ten days, my body stopped shivering.
