I had founded a cybersecurity firm before marrying Daniel. When equipment began disappearing and passwords changed, I installed lawful security cameras in the common areas of my own home and preserved every file through an independent service.
The recordings showed what had been happening inside the house for months. They showed Gloria coaching him on what to tell doctors. They showed Vanessa unlocking my office and photographing confidential banking records.
They had targeted a woman whose career was built on finding patterns criminals believed were invisible.
A knock sounded at the kitchen door. Not the front entrance—the service door leading from the driveway.
Mara stepped inside carrying a briefcase. “The emergency protection order was approved,” she whispered. “The bank has frozen the suspicious transfers. Police are ready.”
I handed her the spare tablet containing the recordings.
Then Daniel shouted, “If dinner is not on this table in five minutes, I swear I will drag you in here myself!”
