THE MISTRESS WHO STOLE THE SPOTLIGHT

Chapter 2: The Wife Strikes Back

At seven o’clock the next morning, I stopped being Adrian Bennett’s wife.

At least, that was what I told myself as I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of my Manhattan penthouse, watching the city awaken beneath a pale autumn sky.

My phone had not stopped ringing since dawn.

Journalists wanted interviews. Former friends wanted explanations. Strangers wanted to tell me how a woman like Vanessa Blake could steal a husband like mine.

And Adrian?

He had spent the night in our guest bedroom, sending messages to his mistress while pretending our marriage was still worth saving.

I had no intention of answering any of them.

Instead, I put on a tailored black suit, pinned my hair into a neat chignon, and called my driver.

“Where are we going, Mrs. Bennett?” he asked.

I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Bennett Global.”

He hesitated. “Your husband is expecting you?”

“No,” I replied. “That is precisely the point.”

By eight thirty, I was walking through the glass doors of the company headquarters, carrying a leather folder containing copies of the financial records I had discovered the night before.

The reception area fell silent.

Employees who had once greeted me warmly suddenly found their phones fascinating. Two assistants whispered behind the front desk. A junior executive nearly dropped his coffee when I passed.

I understood their discomfort.

The internet had already decided I was a pathetic wife, and nobody wanted to be caught standing on the wrong side of a scandal.

I continued toward the private elevators.

Before I could reach them, Adrian’s executive assistant hurried out of her office.

“Mrs. Bennett, I’m sorry, but Mr. Bennett is in an important meeting.”

“Then he won’t mind an important interruption.”

“It’s a confidential board meeting.”

I smiled.

“I’m still a shareholder, and I have a seat on the foundation’s oversight committee. Unless my husband has secretly changed the corporate bylaws overnight, I believe I’m entitled to enter.”

Her face turned pale.

The elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside without waiting for permission.

When I entered the boardroom, twelve executives turned toward me. Adrian sat at the head of the table, his expression darkening instantly.

Beside him sat Vanessa Blake.

She wore a cream-colored designer suit and a pair of diamond earrings I had never seen before. Her hair fell in glossy waves over her shoulders, and her expression carried the smug confidence of someone who believed she had already won.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Vanessa tilted her head.

“Victoria. What a surprise. I didn’t realize family members were allowed to attend business meetings.”

I placed my folder on the table.

“Neither did I realize mistresses were allowed to attend board meetings.”

Someone coughed to conceal a laugh.

Vanessa’s smile stiffened.

Adrian rose from his chair.

“Victoria, this is not the place.”

“Interesting. Last night, you told me the scandal was damaging your company. I assumed you would appreciate my efforts to protect it.”

His jaw tightened.

“Whatever you think you’ve discovered, we can discuss it privately.”

I opened the folder.

“Three million two hundred thousand dollars disappeared from the Bennett Foundation over the past four months. The transfers passed through two shell companies before reaching a marketing agency managed by Vanessa’s business partner.”

Every face around the table changed.

Vanessa stood abruptly.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” I slid copies of the transaction records toward the directors. “Because someone approved these payments using my digital authorization. I was never informed of them, and I never authorized them.”

Adrian’s face became unreadable.

“Where did you get those documents?”

“Does the source matter more than the missing money?”

“Victoria, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it.”

Silence.

For the first time in six years, Adrian Bennett had no immediate answer for me.

Vanessa recovered first.

“She is obviously trying to destroy Adrian because she’s jealous of our relationship. Anyone can manipulate financial records. This is a desperate attempt to ruin us.”

I turned toward her.

“Then you won’t mind handing over your company’s financial records to an independent forensic accountant.”

Her lips parted.

I continued before she could respond.

“And since you have nothing to hide, I’m sure you’ll be happy to provide your private communications concerning the foundation’s accounts.”

“That is absurd!”

“Perhaps. But the alternative is allowing the authorities to investigate without your cooperation.”

The room went still.

Adrian slammed his palm against the table.

“Enough!”

His voice echoed through the boardroom.

I looked at him calmly.

“No, Adrian. Enough was six years ago, when I learned to swallow my opinions to protect your image. Enough was last night, when you let another woman wear my grandmother’s diamonds. And enough was when you decided that the woman who built a charity in your family’s name could be used as a convenient scapegoat.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You are making a terrible mistake.”

I leaned forward.

“No. I’m correcting one.”

I closed the folder and turned toward the directors.

“I have already instructed my attorney to preserve all relevant financial records. An independent investigation will determine who authorized these transactions. Until then, I recommend that no further foundation funds be transferred.”

One of the senior directors, Mr. Harrison, slowly removed his glasses.

“Mrs. Bennett, do you have evidence linking Ms. Blake directly to these transfers?”

“Not enough to make a final accusation,” I replied. “That is why I am requesting an investigation rather than pretending I already know every answer.”

My response appeared to unsettle him more than an angry accusation would have.

Vanessa looked at Adrian.

He did not look back at her.

That tiny movement told me more than either of them intended.

I walked toward the door.

Before leaving, I turned around one last time.

“Enjoy the rest of your meeting.”

My eyes settled on Vanessa.

“And Vanessa? The next time you wear something that belongs to my family, make sure you understand what comes with it.”

Her hand instinctively rose to her earrings.

I smiled.

Then I left.

Outside the boardroom, my knees nearly buckled.

I had been brave for less than twenty minutes, and already my entire body was trembling. Confronting Adrian in front of his executives had felt satisfying, but I knew the battle was only beginning.

He had money, influence, loyal employees, and lawyers who could bury an ordinary person beneath paperwork.

I had evidence.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

My phone vibrated as I entered the elevator.

A message from my attorney appeared on the screen.

ATTORNEY: We need to talk immediately. I found something else.

I called her.

“What is it?”

“Victoria, I reviewed the documents you sent me. One of the shell companies was incorporated three years ago.”

“By whom?”

“Adrian’s former chief financial officer.”

I frowned.

“He left the company two years ago.”

“Officially, yes. But the company records suggest he has continued working with someone inside Bennett Global.”

“Who?”

My attorney paused.

“The ownership documents are complicated, but there’s one name that keeps appearing. Charles Bennett.”

I stopped breathing for a moment.

Charles was Adrian’s older brother.

The man who had died in a boating accident eighteen months earlier.

Or so everyone had believed.

“That can’t be right,” I whispered.

“I know how it sounds. I’m checking the records now. But Victoria, you need to be careful. If these documents are authentic, this is much bigger than an affair.”

The elevator doors opened.

I stepped into the lobby, feeling as though the entire building had shifted beneath my feet.

Before I could answer, another message appeared.

This one came from an unknown number.

It contained a single photograph.

Vanessa was standing outside a private airport terminal, holding hands with a man whose face had been partially obscured by the shadow of his hat.

Beneath the photograph were seven words.

Your husband isn’t the only man she’s deceiving.

I stared at the screen.

Then I enlarged the image.

The man’s left hand rested against Vanessa’s waist. A gold ring glinted on his little finger.

I knew that ring.

I had seen it in photographs of Charles Bennett.

My blood turned cold.

Because if the dead man in the picture was truly Charles, then my husband’s affair was only the smallest part of the lie.

And someone had just warned me that the real war had not even begun.