Elise did not confront Grant.
She added Exhibit C to the folder.
Then she renamed the folder.
TAX ARCHIVE 2024.
Grant never opened tax folders.
He treated them like medical waste.
For the next five months, Elise collected.
Meridian received nine more payments.
None exceeded $50,000.
Sloane approved four.
Grant approved two using a second executive override.
The loan balance rose.
The Nevada acquisition never appeared.
There was no purchase agreement.
No due diligence.
No seller.
Nothing.
At home, Grant became attentive.
Flowers twice.
Dinner reservations.
A weekend he suddenly wanted to spend with her.
Elise found the timing almost insulting.
She accepted all of it.
She smiled in photographs.
She let him believe the paperwork had worked.
At the office, Sloane stopped wearing any noticeable perfume.
She also stopped meeting Elise’s eyes.
One Thursday, she arrived at Elise’s house with a document bag.
“Grant said he needs these signed tonight.”
Elise opened the door wider.
“Come in.”
Sloane hesitated.
“I can wait here.”
“It’s freezing.”
After a moment, she entered.
Elise took the bag to the kitchen.
“Coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
“You look like you need it.”
That almost made Sloane smile.
Elise poured two cups anyway.
Sloane stood near the island.
Her eyes moved around the room.
Then toward the stairs.
She knew the house.
Elise could see it.
Not as a visitor knew a house.
As someone knew where the bathroom was without asking.
Elise handed her coffee.
Sloane took it with both hands.
“Are you sleeping with my husband?”
The cup rattled against the saucer.
Elise kept her voice level.
Sloane’s eyes filled.
“No.”
A lie.
Then, “Not anymore.”
Better.
“How long?”
Sloane looked at the floor.
“Four months.”
“Six.”
Her head lifted.
Elise watched the calculation happen.
“How did you—”
“The perfume.”
Sloane closed her eyes.
“He gave it to me.”
“The bottle from my house.”
“I didn’t know.”
Elise said nothing.
“I swear I didn’t know it was yours.”
“My name is engraved on it.”
Sloane’s face crumpled.
“He put tape over the bottom.”
That was so pathetic Elise almost laughed.
Instead she asked, “Where is it?”
“I threw it away.”
“When?”
“January.”
“Why?”
“Because I found out.”
“About me?”
“About the money.”
Elise set her cup down.
For the first time, Sloane looked directly at her.
“Grant told me the Meridian wires were intercompany transfers.”
“They aren’t.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
Sloane reached into her bag.
She pulled out her phone.
A photograph filled the screen.
Grant sat at a hotel bar.
A woman’s hand—Sloane’s—rested near his sleeve.
On the table between them stood the engraved perfume bottle.
The label faced the camera.
Elise’s name was visible.
The photo timestamp was eleven days before Grant first asked Elise to sign the personal guarantee.
Sloane swiped.
A second image.
A laptop screen.
A Meridian wire approval.
Grant’s hand on the keyboard.
Sloane’s login visible in the corner.
“He told me to approve them,” Sloane whispered. “Then he started doing it himself.”
Elise looked at the images.
“Why are you showing me this?”
Sloane’s answer came slowly.
“Because yesterday he asked me to delete the audit emails.”
Elise waited.
Sloane gripped the phone.
“And because Meridian belongs to him.”
