I looked at her, calm. "The total budget's $1.3 million. Who's covering the extra?"

Mona crossed her arms and snorted. "$1.3 million's for basic people. This is mine and Daxton's love nest—we're using the best. Don't stress the numbers. My husband knows how to move money from the family without getting you in trouble. Just sign."

So that was the play.

I saw it clear as day.

Renovations are a money pit. Easy to sink millions into one and make it vanish.

Daxton planted his mistress smack in the middle of the project to work around the three-party oversight. No bank checks. No flags.

He wanted to bleed me dry and call it "marital spending," so I'd have no legal leg to stand on.

Too bad he banked on Mona being smart.

She didn't even try to make the numbers look real. Those prices were laughable. Did she think I was an idiot?

Maybe all those years abroad fried her brain.

Mona huffed. "Can you hurry it up? That old hag's stuck abroad for at least two or three months. I've got a trip lined up with Daxton."

I smiled. "Pretty sure neither you nor Mr. Pruitt owns this place. The reno money? Came straight from Ms. Faulkner's personal account. And the contract with the company capped the budget at $1.3 million.

"Every payment needs company sign-off. So this $2.6 million invoice of yours? It's not just over budget—it's commercial fraud."

Mona's smirk froze.

I tapped my phone and held it up. "Oh, and that overseas account you listed? It's under Daxton Pruitt's name. What do we call that—embezzlement? Or a little scheme to siphon marital assets? Either way, I'm sure the cops would love it."

Mona went pale. "You... you're lying! You wouldn't dare!"

She fumbled her phone and dialed fast. "Daxton, help! This psycho supervisor won't release the payment—she's threatening to call the cops!"

From the speaker, Daxton's voice exploded. "Some nobody supervisor thinks she's calling shots? Don't worry, baby—I'm on my way. I wanna see which dumb bitch thinks she can mess with my woman!"

Seconds later, the front door slammed open with a loud kick.

Daxton stormed in, face twisted with rage.

"Where is she? Who's the damn supervisor? Tired of living?" he yelled, charging into the living room.

Mona ran to him like he was her knight in shining armor. "Daxton, it's HER! That bitch bullied me—don't let her get away with it!"

She pointed straight at me.

Daxton finally turned.

The second he saw my face, everything stopped.

His knees buckled. He grabbed the wall, voice cracking.

"F-Faye?"