The words coming from my wife’s office stopped me cold.
“Ethan still thinks I love him,” Mariana whispered. “After tonight, he won’t be necessary anymore.”
I stood outside the glass door of Vithera Logistics, holding a bouquet of 200 pink roses. In my other hand were the keys to the pink luxury SUV I’d bought as a surprise for her.
Just three hours earlier, I’d discovered that my lottery ticket had won $80 million.
I had imagined Mariana screaming with happiness, throwing her arms around me, and telling me that our lives would never be the same again.
Instead, I was listening to my wife discuss a future without me.
And the man inside the office with her wasn’t a business partner.
It was Rodrigo, her company’s financial director.
“Are you sure he won’t suspect anything?” Rodrigo asked.
Mariana laughed softly.
“Ethan trusts me. He has trusted me for eight years. He never questions where I go, who I meet, or what I do with the money he gives me.”
My fingers tightened around the rose stems.
She continued.
“Once everything is finalized tonight, we won’t have to pretend anymore.”
“What about the lottery?”
My heart seemed to stop.
I hadn’t told anyone about the winning ticket.
Nobody.
Not my parents, not my closest friends, and certainly not Mariana.
“How did she know?” I whispered to myself.
Then Rodrigo spoke again.
“If he really has won that much money, we need to make sure he signs the documents before he discovers what we’ve done.”
I felt the ground shift beneath my feet.
This wasn’t simply an affair.
They were planning something involving my money.
And somehow, they knew about the lottery.
I slowly lowered the flowers.
For a moment, I considered opening the door and demanding answers. I wanted to look Mariana in the eyes and ask how she could spend eight years pretending to love me.
But I stopped myself.
If I confronted her now, she would have time to destroy evidence, move money, or warn Rodrigo.
I needed to know exactly what they were planning.
So I walked away.
I left the 200 roses beside a trash bin near the building’s entrance, climbed into my car, and locked the doors.
Then I called the only person I knew who could help me understand what was happening.
My attorney, Daniel Brooks.
He answered immediately.
“Ethan? What’s wrong?”
“I need you to listen carefully. I think my wife is planning to take my money.”
There was a brief silence.
“Have you told her about the lottery?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t tell her anything yet. And whatever you do, don’t sign any documents she gives you.”
I stared through the windshield.
“Daniel, there’s something else. She mentioned documents being finalized tonight. Rodrigo was involved.”
His voice became serious.
“Ethan, I need you to come to my office. Bring every financial document you have, and don’t go home until we understand what’s happening.”
Before I could respond, another call appeared on my screen.
The number was unfamiliar.
I answered.
“Mr. Hayes?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Victoria. I used to work in your wife’s company’s accounting department.”
I sat up straight.
“What do you want?”
“I heard what Mariana and Rodrigo were planning. I tried to warn someone before, but nobody believed me.”
“Planning what?”
She hesitated.
“Your wife hasn’t just been hiding an affair. For months, she and Rodrigo have been moving money through accounts connected to Vithera Logistics.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much money?”
“More than you can imagine. And your name appears on some of the paperwork.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“I’ve never authorized anything.”
“That’s what I thought. But there’s a problem. They have documents that make it look as though you approved a major financial transaction.”
I remembered the conversation I’d overheard.
The documents.
The signatures.
The urgency.
“What happens tonight?” I asked.
Victoria took a shaky breath.
“They’re planning to finalize the transaction at a private dinner. Rodrigo believes you’ll be there.”
“I haven’t been invited to any dinner.”
“That’s because Mariana intends to bring the paperwork to you afterward. She thinks you’ll sign anything she puts in front of you if she tells you it’s necessary to protect your future together.”
I closed my eyes.
Eight years.
Eight years of building a life with someone I thought would stand beside me through anything.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether our entire marriage had been part of a plan.
“Victoria, can you prove this?”
“Yes. I copied several internal records before I left the company. But there’s something else you need to know.”
“What?”
“The property where Vithera Logistics operates? Your wife has been telling Rodrigo that she controls the lease.”
I frowned.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything. The building belongs to a company connected to you. Your wife has been negotiating an agreement without your authorization.”
Suddenly, I understood why Mariana had been so confident.
She thought she could control my money, my signature, and the business property that kept her company operating.
But she had overlooked one important detail.
I owned the building.
And after winning the lottery, I had more than enough resources to protect myself.
Still, I wasn’t going to act out of anger.
I called Daniel again and told him everything Victoria had revealed.
He instructed me to preserve the messages, secure my financial accounts, and let him review the relevant documents before making any decisions about the property.
I followed his advice.
By the time I arrived at his office, he had already contacted his legal team.
We spent the next two hours reviewing records and identifying transactions that required further investigation.
Then Daniel stopped at a document on his screen.
“Ethan, look at this.”
I leaned forward.
It was an agreement bearing my name.
The signature looked almost identical to mine.
But I had never seen the document before.
At the bottom was a date from six months earlier.
Beside it was Rodrigo’s name.
Daniel looked at me.
“Did you authorize this?”
“No.”
“Then we need to establish how this document was created and whether anyone used it to transfer funds or obtain financial benefits.”
He paused.
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