Chapter 6 - The account that made Brooke look like the mastermind
Ryan stopped defending Brooke after that.
I almost did the opposite.
Not because I trusted her.
Because evidence that points too neatly at the most obvious person should make anyone careful.
Brooke’s name.
Brooke’s notary stamp.
Brooke’s affair.
Brooke’s app account.
It looked perfect.
Too perfect.
Digital forensic review found the smart-relay account was created using Brooke’s email address.
But the recovery phone number belonged to Marcus’s office.
The initial login came from his laptop.
Brooke had received an automated setup email months earlier and ignored it because she assumed it related to a rental property.
Careless?
Yes.
Proof she knowingly controlled the relay?
Not yet.
Then investigators reviewed the security footage from our basement installation.
The contractor arrived while Ethan was home.
Ethan let him inside.
Not Brooke.
Ethan admitted Marcus told him the device would monitor electrical consumption for an insurance discount.
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d say no.”
That sentence summed up our marriage more clearly than any affair ever could.
He did things secretly because consent was inconvenient.
Brooke’s role remained serious.
She had notarized false documents.
She had allowed Marcus access to her professional credentials.
She had participated in the affair.
She had also lied to Ryan repeatedly.
But evidence increasingly suggested Marcus was assigning every risky action through someone else’s identity.
Natalie’s vendor.
Brooke’s notary commission.
Ethan’s insurance credentials.
My security system.
His fingerprints were organizational, not literal.
That was how he stayed clean.
Until Natalie’s hard drive revealed one forgotten spreadsheet.
She had copied it accidentally with a batch of invoices.
The file listed projected claim profits.
Next to each property were percentages.
Marcus: 45%.
Ethan: 20%.
Natalie: 5%.
“B”: 5%.
Remaining 25%:
R.H.
Ryan looked at the initials.
“That’s me.”
Brooke turned toward him.
“You were involved?”
“No.”
His attorney leaned closer.
Ryan’s company was called Ryan Hart Development.
R.H.
Marcus had apparently allocated a portion of proceeds to a company account Ryan controlled.
Why?
Maybe Marcus intended to implicate him.
Maybe Ryan knew more than he admitted.
This time, the suspicion landed on the betrayed spouse.
Ryan’s face turned pale.
“I never agreed to this.”
Then his attorney found the corresponding bank instructions.
The destination account was indeed under Ryan Hart Development.
But it had been opened two months earlier.
Online.
Using Ryan’s identity.
He had never authorized it.
Someone was constructing a financial trail around him too.
Marcus was not merely hiding behind collaborators.
He was preparing replacements for blame.
If the scheme collapsed:
Natalie looked like the fake vendor.
Brooke looked like the notary and device administrator.
Ethan looked like the corrupt insurer.
Ryan looked like the recipient.
And Marcus looked like a businessman whose partners deceived him.
Almost elegant.
Then Marcus finally called Ryan.
Not knowing attorneys were present.
Ryan answered calmly.
Marcus said:
“You need to control your wife.”
Ryan looked at Brooke.
“Which one?”
Marcus went silent.
That accidental question exposed more than we expected.
Then he said:
“Don’t get clever. Lauren already ruined enough.”
I spoke from across the room.
“Hi, Marcus.”
Silence.
Then:
“You should have stayed at work.”
The call ended.
My attorney immediately preserved it.
Nobody celebrated.
Because the sentence suggested Marcus knew exactly when I was supposed to be away from home.
Then the security company called.
Someone had tried to access our alarm remotely using Ethan’s old credentials.
The attempt failed.
But the source location was not Marcus’s office.
It was my own workplace.
May you like
And the login came from my executive assistant.
Cliffhanger: Marcus’s access reached into Lauren’s job too—and the woman who managed Lauren’s calendar may have been the reason he always knew exactly when the house would be empty.
