Finally being treated like the queen I deserve to be.
Dad slid a notebook toward me.
“Document everything.”
“What?”
“Every call. Every text. Every voicemail. Every screenshot.”
At 9:46, the club manager called.
“Ms. Salazar, sorry to bother you, but Mr. Bennett is attempting to authorize charges through your corporate membership.”
“My ex-husband,” I corrected.
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“I understand. There’s something else.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“He signed an authorization form using your company’s name.”
Cold flooded through me.
“And?”
The manager hesitated.
“He also signed your name.”
I sat up straight.
“Save everything.”
“Excuse me?”
“The bill. The security footage. The signatures. Every communication.”
Another pause.
“Understood.”
At 10:15 p.m., Michael sent his final message of the night.
You’re going to regret humiliating me.
Dad read it once.
Then looked at me.
“No, sweetheart.”
His voice was calm.
