Chapter 1 - THE ENVELOPE I WAS AFRAID TO OPEN
The envelope sat on my tray table for twenty-three minutes before I touched it.
Trinity kept glancing at it.
“What did she give you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s obviously a lie.”
“For once, it isn’t.”
The aircraft climbed over the Atlantic while I stared at Dakota’s handwriting across the front.
ETHAN COLEMAN.
Not Ethan.
Not honey.
Not my husband.
My full name.
Like something meant for a lawyer.
Then the senior flight attendant appeared beside our seats.
Her name tag read MARGARET HOLT.
“Mr. Coleman?”
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Coleman asked that I witness you opening the envelope.”
Trinity’s eyes widened.
“Witness?”
Margaret remained professionally expressionless.
I looked toward the galley.
Dakota was helping an elderly passenger adjust her blanket.
She never looked at me.
My hands suddenly felt damp.
I broke the seal.
Inside were photographs.
Me leaving the Armitage Hotel with Trinity.
Me kissing Trinity beside my company car.
Me entering a jewelry store with her.
A screenshot of the Florence hotel reservation.
A copy of my message to Dakota:
Love, I just arrived in Nashville.
Time stamped thirty-seven minutes after I boarded Flight 912 in New York.
Trinity whispered, “Oh my God.”
There was also a printed corporate expense report.
Eight months.
Restaurants.
Hotels.
Flights.
Flowers.
A $6,400 bracelet.
Every charge paid with an executive card belonging to Caldwell Meridian Group, where I served as senior vice president of acquisitions.
At the bottom was a note in Dakota’s handwriting.
I know about the affair.
I know about the money.
And I know Trinity is not who she told you she was.
My eyes stopped.
“What does that mean?” Trinity asked.
I quickly folded the page.
She grabbed my wrist.
“What did she write?”
“Nothing.”
“Ethan.”
Margaret cleared her throat.
“There is one additional document.”
I had missed it.
A formal notice from Caldwell Meridian’s audit committee ordering me to preserve all communications involving Trinity Hayes.
Not just expense records.
Communications.
Consulting contracts.
Wire transfers.
Vendor introductions.
My stomach dropped.
Trinity had been introduced to me eight months earlier as an independent luxury hospitality consultant helping with a hotel acquisition.
I looked at her.
“What did you tell Dakota?”
“Nothing.”
“Who else knows you?”
Her expression changed.
For the first time since boarding, Trinity looked frightened instead of angry.
Then Dakota passed our row.
I caught her wrist gently.
“What do you know about Trinity?”
Dakota looked down at my hand until I released her.
Then she answered.
“Enough to know you should stop asking your mistress questions and start asking why your company froze forty-two million dollars this morning.”
I stopped breathing.
Forty-two million.
That was the exact amount connected to our Tuscany hotel acquisition.
Dakota leaned closer.
“And Ethan?”
May you like
Her voice was almost kind.
“Trinity’s real last name isn’t Hayes.”
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