“You won’t.”
“This is my home too.”
“It’s your residence.”
“Tessa.”
“The property belongs to a trust established before our marriage.”
Diane laughed.
“Oh, come on.”
I looked at her.
“Would you like the parcel number?”
Her expression changed.
Corbin stared at me.
“I’ve lived here six years.”
“Yes.”
“We’re married.”
“Yes.”
“That means I have rights.”
“It means you should call the attorney who reviewed our prenuptial agreement.”
Walter slowly looked toward his brother.
Corbin went silent.
That evening, they left.
Belle with Diane.
Walter driving.
Corbin throwing clothes into two suitcases while telling me I would regret “turning this into a legal war.”
I stood in the doorway of our bedroom and watched.
“I’m not turning it into anything.”
“You just poisoned someone.”
“No.”
“You’ll see.”
He zipped the second suitcase.
“I have lawyers too.”
“I hope they read documents.”
That was the last thing I said.
After the front door closed, I walked into my office.
Opened the safe.
Pulled out the property trust.
The prenuptial agreement.
Patent ownership documents.
Corporate records.
Everything Corbin had never bothered reading because he believed lifestyle implied ownership.
The deed sat inside the Morgan Asset Protection Trust established four years before our wedding.
My patents belonged to Morgan Materials Analytics, a company I created before I met him.
The prenup classified both clearly.
Corbin had independent counsel when he signed it.
Initials on every page.
His initials.
My attorney, Leticia Ramos, met me at eight the following morning.
She read the pool incident summary I had prepared.
Then looked at me.
“You ran a diagnostic test.”
“Yes.”
“Safe marker?”
“Yes.”
“Approved application?”
“Yes.”
“Documentation?”
I handed her the technical sheet.
She almost smiled.
“Of course you have documentation.”
“I make documentation.”
“What about cameras?”
I paused.
The house had exterior security.
Including landscape cameras integrated into several lighting fixtures around the pool.
Corbin knew cameras existed around the property.
He never cared where.
“Pull the footage.”
That afternoon, we did.
At first, I only wanted evidence showing Belle entered the pool willingly.
We found much more.
The footage showed Belle arriving hours before I returned.
No documents in her hands.
No accidental slip.
She and Corbin poured drinks, sat together beneath the covered patio, and eventually used the pool.
That answered the personal question.
Then Leticia stopped the recording.
“Go back.”
“What?”
“Thirty seconds.”
I rewound.
Corbin and Belle were talking near the outdoor bar.