Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN THE RED DRESS KNEW MORE THAN SHE ADMITTED
“You need to stop looking at Derek as the only person who lied to you.”
I turned toward Sienna Cole.
She was standing outside Laura Chen's office in downtown Chicago, still wearing her hair in the same polished waves from the gala.
But the red silk dress was gone.
Today she wore black trousers, a cream sweater, and an expression that suggested she hadn't slept.
It was eight-thirty Wednesday morning.
I had spent most of the night listening to Laura explain why the fraudulent transactions posed a serious threat.
My old savings account had been used as a temporary destination for foundation funds before the money moved elsewhere.
The transfers appeared to have been approved through an electronic signature assigned to me.
And Derek's company records identified me as the person responsible for donor reconciliation.
I had never performed that job.
I hadn't even known it existed.
Yet on paper, I looked like someone who had stolen millions from a children's charity.
Now Derek's mistress stood in front of me.
And she wanted to talk.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I answered.
“I believe that.”
“Then move.”
She didn't.
“Please. I came because of Grace.”
I stopped.
“Don't use my daughter.”
Sienna flinched.
“You're right. I shouldn't have said it that way.”
Laura appeared in the doorway.
“Victoria, do you know this woman?”
“Unfortunately.”
Sienna looked at Laura.
“My name is Sienna Cole. I work in strategic communications for Sterling Meridian.”
I stared at her.
“You work for Derek?”
She nodded.
The realization hit me immediately.
The restaurant dinners.
The business trips.
The late meetings.
They hadn't just been hiding an affair.
They had been working together.
“How convenient,” I said.
Sienna didn't defend herself.
Instead, she took a folded charity program from her bag.
I recognized it from the gala.
On the cover was a photograph of Derek and me standing beside children at a hospital fundraiser.
Below it were the words:
Building Brighter Futures Together.
Sienna placed the program on Laura's desk.
“Derek told me the board had approved a leadership transition.”
Laura frowned.
“What transition?”
Sienna opened the program.
Inside was a printed announcement prepared for release after the gala.
Victoria Sterling to Step Down as Foundation Chair Amid Financial Review.
I felt my pulse hammering in my ears.
“What financial review?”
Sienna looked directly at me.
“The one Derek planned to announce if you confronted him publicly.”
For a moment I couldn't speak.
Then I remembered the ballroom.
My husband arriving with another woman.
The guests watching.
His insistence that I not make a scene.
“You brought her there on purpose,” I whispered.
Sienna lowered her eyes.
“He told me you were separated. He said attending together would make it official.”
“And if I reacted?”
She swallowed.
“He said it would demonstrate that you were emotionally unstable.”
Laura picked up the announcement.
“And who prepared this?”
“I did.”
I stared at Sienna.
She looked ashamed.
“I was told there were irregularities in the foundation accounts. Derek said Victoria had been handling the money independently.”
“That's a lie,” I said.
“I know that now.”
“Do you?”
Her eyes filled.
“I heard what Grace played.”
The mention of my daughter made me angrier.
“You stood there while my nine-year-old asked why her father didn't want to come home.”
Sienna looked down.
“I should have walked away immediately.”
“Yes,” I said. “You should have.”
Laura motioned for us to sit.
Sienna remained standing.
“I didn't know he was married when we started seeing each other,” she said.
I gave a short, bitter laugh.
“Did you never search his name?”
“He told me the marriage was over. I met him at an industry conference. He wasn't wearing a ring.”
“That might explain the beginning,” I said. “It doesn't explain last night.”
“No.”
At least she didn't try.
That was something.
Sienna admitted she had known Derek still lived with me for two months.
He claimed it was for Grace's sake while lawyers finalized the separation.
She had believed him because he showed her what appeared to be a separation agreement.
Laura asked to see it.
Sienna produced a photograph.
My signature was at the bottom.
Again.
The same false signature.
The same downward stroke.
I felt something inside me harden.
“How many women did he show my name to while he was stealing my life?”
Sienna pressed her lips together.
“I don't know.”
Then she said, “But I'm not the person who prepared those documents.”
Laura looked up.
“Who was?”
“Nolan Pierce.”
The name struck like a match.
The lawyer handling the sale of our home.
Laura made a note.
Sienna continued.
“Derek called him his problem solver.”
I stared at the charity program.
“You came here because you're scared he'll blame you too.”
“Yes.”
Her honesty surprised me.
“And because I did something I'm ashamed of.”
She explained that two weeks earlier, Derek had asked her to revise a financial announcement.
It described an internal investigation into foundation spending.
The draft originally named Martin Kessler as the executive overseeing the transfers.
Derek instructed her to replace Martin's name with mine.
“Did you keep the original?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Sienna hesitated.
“Because Martin told me not to delete anything.”
I looked up.
“Martin knew?”
“He said the foundation records didn't match the announcements. He wanted proof of what had changed.”
Laura leaned forward.
“Where is he?”
Sienna shook her head.
“He's on administrative leave.”
“Since when?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
The same day Derek brought another woman to the gala.
The same day my father began examining the recordings.
It couldn't be coincidence.
Laura asked Sienna to preserve her records and arrange for independent legal advice.
Then she warned her not to access company systems improperly or discuss the matter with Derek.
Sienna nodded.
Before leaving, she turned toward me.
“Victoria, I know you don't owe me forgiveness.”
“You're right.”
“I just need you to know something.”
I waited.
“When he talked about Grace, he acted like she was an obstacle. But when he talked about you…”
She stopped.
“What?”
“He was afraid of you.”
I stared at her.
“That's ridiculous.”
“No. He said you were the only person who could unravel everything because you remembered how Sterling Meridian started.”
My breath caught.
The company.
Our first apartment.
The loans.
The nights Derek and I sat at our kitchen table sorting invoices while Grace slept in a bassinet beside us.
“Why would that matter now?”
Sienna shook her head.
“I don't know.”
After she left, Laura studied the documents.
“Victoria, did you contribute money to Sterling Meridian when it was founded?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Almost everything I had.”
“How much exactly?”
I hesitated.
“My grandmother left me two hundred and eighty thousand dollars. I put two hundred thousand into the company.”
Laura became very still.
“Was it a gift or an investment?”
“An investment. Derek insisted on putting that in writing.”
“Do you have the agreement?”
“I thought he did.”
Laura looked troubled.
“Find it.”
That afternoon, I went to our Evanston house with Claudia to retrieve the old filing boxes from the garage.
Derek wasn't home.
Neither was his car.
I found our first company's incorporation folder beneath a stack of tax records.
Inside was a faded photograph.
Derek and me outside our first rented office.
He wore a cheap blue tie.
I was holding a cardboard sign that read:
WE DID IT.
Behind the photograph was a handwritten note.
To Victoria. Fifty percent of this dream belongs to you. Always. — D.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then I found the investment agreement.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
The document confirmed my contribution.
But what caught my attention was the ownership schedule.
Derek Sterling: 45 percent.
Victoria Bennett Sterling: 45 percent.
Employee trust: 10 percent.
I read it three times.
Then I called Laura.
“I found it.”
“Found what?”
“The original agreement.”
There was a pause.
“Victoria, read me the ownership percentages.”
I did.
Laura went silent.
Then she said, “That changes our strategy.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Why?”
“Because Derek's current financial disclosures identify him as the controlling founder.”
“So?”
“So if your original equity was never lawfully transferred or diluted, he may have misrepresented the ownership of his company.”
I sat down on the garage floor.
Laura continued.
“But don't assume those original percentages remain unchanged. We need the full corporate history.”
I understood.
The agreement wasn't proof that I still owned half the company.
But it proved something Derek had spent years erasing.
I had been there.
I had invested.
I had helped build it.
And I was not merely the wife standing beside him in photographs.
Claudia knelt beside me.
“Vic, are you okay?”
I showed her Derek's old note.
She read it.
Then her expression changed.
“Victoria, turn the photograph over.”
I did.
There was another message.
Written in my husband's handwriting.
If anything ever happens to the company, the blue ledger proves where every dollar came from.
Below it was a date from eleven years earlier.
May you like
And a name.
Martin has the second copy.
