Chapter 11 - THE TICKETS TO PARIS
The tickets were paid using my offshore account.
The one Vanessa created.
Elegant.
If I had not discovered the fraud, the evidence would look convincing.
Money in my name.
Tickets in my name.
My friend traveling with me.
A mother preparing to flee during a corporate dispute.
Dominic looked at me.
“This is my fault.”
“Yes.”
He accepted it.
Then:
“But I can help prove it.”
“How?”
“Vanessa used my executive assistant for travel bookings.”
His assistant, Olivia, had arranged our trips for years.
We called her.
She went silent when asked about Paris.
“Olivia.”
Dominic’s voice softened.
“Tell the truth.”
She began crying.
“Vanessa told me Mrs. Caruso wanted privacy.”
“When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Before the gala.
The setup began before the slap.
Vanessa expected conflict.
Maybe she created the wine incident hoping I would react publicly.
She wanted me unstable.
She wanted me gone.
She wanted the bridal sale.
“Did you speak to Nora?”
“No.”
“Then why book?”
“Vanessa sent emails from Mrs. Caruso’s account.”
My stomach tightened.
“My email?”
“We checked the sender.”
Rebecca requested headers.
Spoofed through a forwarding rule.
Vanessa had access to more of my digital life than I realized.
Then Olivia said something else.
“She asked me to book one-way tickets.”
I looked at Dominic.
He closed his eyes.
The custody scheme was deliberate.
At the emergency hearing, everything came out quickly.
The slap video.
Full version.
Not edited.
Dominic striking me.
Vanessa grabbing my wrist first.
Her pouring the wine over herself captured by a guest’s phone from another angle.
The offshore account.
The ticket setup.
Olivia’s declaration.
Vincent’s petition collapsed.
The judge looked directly at Dominic.
“Mr. Caruso, did you strike your wife?”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Were you defending yourself?”
“No.”
“Was your child present?”
“No.”
“Do you believe Mrs. Caruso poses a danger to your son?”
“No.”
“Do you believe your father’s petition is in the child’s best interests?”
“No.”
Then the judge asked:
“Where do you believe the child should remain?”
Dominic looked at me.
“With his mother.”
Something inside me loosened.
Not forgiveness.
Relief.
He could have fought.
He didn’t.
The judge denied Vincent’s petition.
Then imposed temporary parenting arrangements.
Dominic would see Eli by agreement and court guidance while the divorce situation developed.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
Somehow the story had leaked.
Dominic stepped toward the microphones.
I thought he would defend the company.
Instead:
“My wife was assaulted last night.”
Every camera turned.
“By me.”
I froze.
He continued.
“There is no excuse.”
His attorney whispered something.
Dominic ignored him.
“I also failed to protect her intellectual property inside my company after learning it had been used without her permission.”
Reporters erupted.
Vanessa’s career was about to explode.
Caruso stock too.
Dominic continued:
“Nora Caruso is not responsible for the current crisis at Caruso Design.”
He looked directly toward the cameras.
“I am.”
Then he walked away.
I stared after him.
Claire whispered:
“That was expensive.”
“Yes.”
“Feel better?”
“No.”
But maybe truth was supposed to cost something.
Then Rebecca’s phone buzzed.
Vanessa had disappeared.
Her apartment empty.
Corporate phone abandoned.
And one item was missing from Caruso’s archive.
My original physical sketchbook.
May you like
The one containing every design I had never digitized.
Including a bridal collection I had never shown anyone.
