Chapter 5: Violetta

By the time I arrive in the new city, the sun has already begun to sink behind the tall buildings lining the main road. I watch the unfamiliar streets through the car window while the driver follows the directions I gave him, and for the first time since leaving Mark's house, I allow myself to breathe without wondering what he will say next.

The car stops outside a modern apartment building, and I reach for my suitcase before the driver can get out. He insists on helping me with it, so I let him carry it to the entrance while I collect my handbag and check the address on my phone.

“This is the building, ma'am,” he says.

“Yes. Thank you.”

I pay him, take my suitcase, and walk inside. The receptionist checks my name against the information provided by the company before handing me an access card. She explains that the apartment has already been furnished and that the company has covered the first month's accommodation while I decide whether I want to rent something permanently.

I thank her and take the elevator upstairs. My phone vibrates before the doors close. I glance at the screen and when I see Mark's name I ignore it. The call ends, and another one begins almost immediately. I turn the phone face down in my hand and let that call end as well. When the elevator reaches my floor, I step out, unlock the apartment, and place my suitcase beside the sofa.

The apartment is smaller than the house I shared with Mark, but I immediately prefer it. There are no photographs of us on the walls, no furniture selected because it suited his taste, and no memories attached to every room. The living room has a simple sofa and a desk beside the window, while the kitchen contains everything I need to prepare a meal without asking anyone what they prefer.

I walk into the bedroom and open the wardrobe. There is enough space for everything I brought, so I begin unpacking without wasting time deciding what deserves to come with me. My phone vibrates again. This time, it is a message. 'You need to come home.' I read it once before deleting it. Another message arrives. 'I handled everything but we need to make a statement.' I delete that one too and place the phone on the kitchen counter.

I have spent enough of my life explaining myself to Mark. I have no intention of spending the first night of my new life doing it again. The following morning, I leave the apartment shortly after seven and arrive at the company headquarters before most of the employees. The receptionist checks my name and immediately calls Human Resources, and within a few minutes, a woman in a navy suit approaches me with a welcoming smile.

“Violetta?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Clara Bennett. I oversee Human Resources. We spoke when you accepted the position.”

I shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“We're delighted you came back to us. The board was disappointed when you declined the position the first time, so when you called telling you were accepting after all, we moved quickly.”

I keep my expression neutral. “I'm glad the position was still available.”

“It was never filled in quite the way we wanted.” Clara gestures toward the elevators. “You were always our first choice.”

We walk upstairs together, and she explains the departments I will be working with, the executives who report directly to me, and the project that has been waiting for someone in my position to take control. I listen carefully and ask questions whenever something requires clarification, and by the time we reach the executive floor, I already understand more about the company's current difficulties than I expected to learn on my first morning. Clara stops outside a conference room. “They've been waiting for you.”

I step inside. Six people are seated around the table, and the man at the head stands when I enter. “Ms. Violetta, welcome. I'm Daniel Hart, the managing director. ”We shake hands before I take the seat Clara indicates. “We'll keep the introductions brief because we have a proposal that needs attention,” Daniel says. “The expansion project has been stalled for almost three weeks, and the board wants the revised figures by the end of the week.” He slides a thick folder toward me.

I open it and begin reading. The finance director explains the projected costs while the operations manager describes the expected increase in production. I let them finish before turning back through the pages, comparing the figures instead of accepting them at face value. After several minutes, I stop at the second-phase projections. “Who prepared this supplier estimate?”

The finance director looks at me. “Our procurement team.”

“When was the supplier contract last reviewed?”

“Three months ago.”

I turn the page. “Then this number is outdated.”

He leans forward. “Why?”

“The current contract expires before the second phase begins.” I point to the date. “If the supplier increases the rate when the new contract is negotiated, the projected operating cost will be considerably higher than this.”

The finance director takes the folder from me and checks the page himself.

Daniel looks at the procurement manager. “Is that correct?”

The manager reaches for his tablet. “It could be.”

“It isn't only the supplier rate,” I say, turning to another page. “Your distribution projection is based on the facility operating at maximum capacity for twelve months, but the expansion schedule doesn't support that assumption. The final quarter will have a lower output unless the second distribution center is ready before then.”

The operations manager opens his laptop. “She's right about the schedule.”

The room becomes quiet as everyone begins checking the figures.

Daniel looks at me. “How long would you need to correct the proposal?”

“If I receive the supplier contracts, distribution schedule, and the revised production figures today, I can have a new projection ready tomorrow.”

He nods. “Get her everything she needs.”

The meeting continues for another hour, but the discussion becomes more productive once I begin asking the questions the previous team overlooked. By the time it ends, I have three files waiting on my desk and a meeting scheduled with the finance department for the following morning.

As I leave the room, Clara walks beside me. “You've been here less than two hours.”

I glance at her. “Is that a problem?”

She laughs. “Not at all. I was going to say that the board will be pleased.”

“I hope they are.”

“They're going to ask why you ever turned this position down.”

I stop briefly. “I had other priorities then.”

Clara studies me but does not press the question.

“That makes sense,” she says before continuing down the hallway.

I return to my office and spend the rest of the morning reviewing the files I was given. By lunchtime, I have already identified two additional inconsistencies in the expansion proposal, and I send the corrections to the finance team before leaving my desk. The cafeteria is crowded when I arrive, so I choose a quiet table near the window. I have barely started eating when a woman from the legal department approaches with her tray. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all.”

She sits opposite me and introduces herself as Mara. “I heard you were the one who caught the supplier problem.”

“It wasn't difficult once I saw the contract date.”

“You say that as if everyone else had three hours to stare at it.”

I smile. Mara begins telling me about the company, but midway through the conversation, she hesitates. “Can I ask you something personal?”

I put down my fork. “You can ask.”

“Are you Mark Leonard's wife?”

The question does not surprise me. I have already seen my name appearing beside his in several news articles that morning. “I was.”

Mara's expression changes. “I'm sorry.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for.”

“I only asked because everyone has been talking about the scandal.”

“I know.”

She waits for me to elaborate, but I return my attention to my lunch.

After a moment, she understands. “You don't want to talk about it.”

“I came here to work.”

Mara nods. “Understood.”

The conversation moves back to the company, and by the time we finish lunch, she has told me enough about the upcoming board meeting for me to know what I need to prepare.

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. I meet with the finance team, obtain the supplier contracts, review the distribution schedule, and make several corrections to the expansion proposal. By the time I leave the office, I have already completed more work in one day than I expected to complete in my first week. I return to the apartment with a stack of documents in my handbag and order dinner because I am too tired to cook. I have barely finished eating when my phone rings. This time, the caller is not Mark but the lawyer handling my divorce. “Hello?”

“Ms. Violetta, this is Eleanor Hayes. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time.”

“No. What happened?”

“I've been reviewing the information you provided regarding your marital assets, and I need to discuss something with you before we proceed.”

I sit straighter. “What is it?”

“There is a problem with the apartment.”

I look toward the living room. “What problem?”

“The ownership record does not correspond with what you listed in your divorce documents.”

I frown. “I listed the apartment as jointly owned.”

“I know.”

“So what does the record say?”

“There is no joint ownership recorded under your name and Mark Leonard's.”

I sit down slowly. “That can't be right.”

Mrs. Hayes sighs as if she expected me to say that. "I have checked the preliminary records twice, and the registration does not match the information you gave me.”

My fingers tighten around the phone. “Who owns it?”

“I don't want to give you an incomplete answer until I've reviewed the supporting documents.”

“Mrs. Hayes, that apartment is ours.”

“That's what you believed but I want you to know that we need to look at more than the apartment.”

I reach for a notebook.“What other properties should I keep in mind?”

“I can't tell you yet because I have only received preliminary records. I need you to bring me every document you have concerning the assets you believed belonged to you and Mr.Leonard. The documents should include property records, vehicle registrations, investment statements, insurance policies, bank documents, and anything else connected to assets acquired during your marriage.”

I stop writing. “Why do you need the insurance policies?”

There is a pause before she finally responds. “Because I found something unusual there too.”

My stomach tightens. “What did you find?”

“I would rather show you in person.”

“Then when should I come?”

“Tomorrow morning at ten.”

I write down the appointment. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes. Bring your marriage certificate. I'll use it to compare the dates on several of the registrations with the date of your marriage.”

I stare at the page. “Mrs. Hayes, are you telling me Mark registered our assets without me?”

“I am telling you that something about the way those assets were registered does not make sense.”

The uncertainty in her voice unsettles me more than a direct accusation would have. “I'll bring everything.”

“Good. And make sure you bring the original documents if you still have them. Do not rely on copies.”

I promise I will and end the call.