The Anniversary Betrayal

Part 3: The Wife He Never Knew

The following morning, I arrived at my lawyer’s office at nine.

Her name was Margaret Collins. She was sixty years old, sharp-minded, and famous for handling complicated divorce cases involving wealthy families.

She placed a thick folder on her desk.

“Claire, I need you to remain calm while I explain this.”

I nodded.

She opened the folder.

“Your husband has not transferred ownership of your inheritance. However, these documents gave him considerable authority over several investment accounts and properties.”

“Why would he need that?”

“According to the paperwork, it was for estate management and financial protection.”

I stared at the signatures.

They were mine.

“Can we reverse it?”

“Possibly. But first, I want to understand whether you were misled into signing them.”

I thought about Adrian sitting beside me at our dining table, patiently pointing to each signature line.

He had kissed my forehead afterward.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything.”

I felt sick.

“Margaret, I want every document reviewed. I don’t care how long it takes.”

She nodded.

Then she showed me another page.

“There’s something else. A company connected to Sofia received payments from an account associated with Moretti Holdings.”

I frowned.

“How much?”

“Approximately two million dollars over six months.”

I stared at her.

Two million dollars.

While Adrian had been telling me that our company was experiencing financial difficulties and that we should postpone having children, he had apparently been financing another woman’s life.

My phone vibrated.

A message from Adrian appeared.

Adrian: We need to talk. Sofia is lying to you.

Another message followed.

Adrian: Please come home. I’ll explain everything.

I showed Margaret the messages.

She looked at me seriously.

“Don’t meet him alone. And don’t sign anything else.”

I nodded.

But before I could put my phone away, another notification appeared.

It was a photograph from an unknown number.

Adrian was standing outside a private hospital with Sofia.

His hand rested protectively on her back.

The message underneath read:

He brought her to a private prenatal appointment this morning.

I stared at the picture.

Then I noticed something in the background.

A man standing beside the hospital entrance.

I recognized him immediately.

It was Adrian’s personal accountant, Thomas.

Why was Thomas there?

I enlarged the photograph.

He was holding a folder with the Moretti Holdings logo.

Suddenly, Sofia’s words returned to my mind.

Ask Adrian why he suddenly became interested in your father’s old company.

I called Margaret.

“I want to investigate the two-million-dollar payments. Every single transaction.”

She nodded.

“That is exactly what we’ll do.”

Three days later, we discovered something far worse.

The money Adrian had transferred to Sofia hadn’t come entirely from Moretti Holdings.

Some of it had come from an investment company that belonged to my late father.

My father’s company.

The same company Adrian had promised to protect.

I felt my hands go cold.

“How much?”

Margaret looked at the report.

“Nearly eight hundred thousand dollars.”

I couldn’t speak.

My father had spent his entire life building that business.

And my husband had quietly used it to finance his affair.

That evening, I finally agreed to meet Adrian.

Not at the mansion.

Not at one of his restaurants.

We met in a private room at the Moretti Hotel downtown.

When I entered, Adrian immediately stood.

He looked thinner than I remembered.

“Claire.”

I placed a folder on the table.

“Sit down.”

He stared at me.

“What is this?”

“Your financial records.”

His expression changed.

I opened the folder and pushed several documents toward him.

“Would you like to explain why eight hundred thousand dollars from my father’s company ended up funding Sofia’s lifestyle?”

Adrian didn’t touch the papers.

“Where did you get these?”

“That’s your first question?”

“Claire, there are business matters you don’t understand.”

I laughed.

“Then explain them to me.”

He rubbed his forehead.

“The transfers were temporary. I was going to return the money.”

“Before or after Sofia gave birth?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Who told you that?”

“Does it matter?”

He leaned forward.

“Listen to me. I made a terrible mistake with Sofia, but I never intended to leave you.”

I stared at him.

“You promised her that you would divorce me.”

His silence was enough.

I slowly removed my wedding ring and placed it on the table.

“I’m done, Adrian.”

He looked at the ring as if it were a weapon.

“Don’t.”

“I’ve already hired a lawyer.”

“You can’t simply walk away from this marriage.”

“I can, and I will.”

His voice dropped.

“Claire, think carefully. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

I stood up.

“You’re right. I didn’t know what I was doing when I trusted you.”

I picked up my purse.

But before I reached the door, Adrian spoke again.

“There’s something else.”

I stopped.

He looked unusually uncomfortable.

“Sofia isn’t telling you the whole truth.”

I turned around.

“What does that mean?”

He took a deep breath.

“The pregnancy was not planned. But the money transfers weren’t entirely for her.”

I stared at him.

“Then who were they for?”

He looked down at the documents.

“Someone has been using Sofia’s company to move money out of my organization. I only discovered it recently.”

I felt a chill run down my spine.

“Are you saying Sofia stole from you?”

“I’m saying someone is using her.”

“Who?”

Before Adrian could answer, the door opened.

His older brother, Dante Moretti, walked inside.

Dante was forty years old and served as the family’s chief financial strategist. Unlike Adrian, he rarely raised his voice. He didn’t need to.

He glanced at me, then at the wedding ring on the table.

“So,” he said quietly. “She finally found out.”

Adrian stood.

“Not now, Dante.”

But his brother ignored him.

He placed a black folder on the table.

“Claire, there’s something you need to see.”

I hesitated.

Then I opened it.

Inside were photographs, bank records, and copies of private messages.

One message was dated six months earlier.

It had been sent from Sofia’s phone to someone saved under the name D.

Sofia: Adrian believes the baby is his. Once Claire leaves, everything will be easier.

The reply was short.

D: Make sure she signs the remaining documents first.

I looked up.

My eyes moved from Dante to Adrian.

“Who is D?”

Neither man answered.

Then Dante slowly turned toward his younger brother.

“Tell her, Adrian.”

Adrian’s face had gone completely pale.

And in that moment, I realized something terrifying.

The woman who had destroyed my marriage might not have been acting alone.

Someone inside the Moretti family had helped her.

Someone who knew exactly how to make me disappear from Adrian’s life.

And whoever that person was, they had been planning this long before our third anniversary.