Chapter 3

On the third day, Chloe brought me to meet Ms. Harrison.

Ms. Harrison was in her late 40s, had handled hundreds of divorce cases, and had a 92% win rate.

"Ms. Elara, I have a basic understanding of your situation."

Ms. Harrison flipped through the documents I'd brought.

"What are your demands?"

"First, divorce. Second, full custody of my son. Third, division of assets – I want what's rightfully mine."

"What are the assets?"

"Joint marital assets include a house, valued at $385,000, with an $110,000 mortgage remaining, so a net value of $275,000. Savings: $69,000 in his name, $27,600 in mine. Stocks and funds, about $41,000. Total, around $413,000."

Ms. Harrison nodded.

"If we can prove he committed adultery and used marital assets to purchase expensive items for a third party, you can request a larger share."

"How much?"

"Normally it's 50/50, but with sufficient evidence, you could get 60-70%, which would be $247,000 to $289,000."

"I want 70%."

"Then you'll need to provide sufficient evidence."

Ms. Harrison looked at me. "What do you have right now?"

I pulled out my phone and showed her the screenshots.

"Matching outfits, credit card statements, hotel bookings, phone photos, the third party's social media posts."

Ms. Harrison reviewed each one.

"These are all good, but they're not enough."

"Not enough?"

"In court, the other side could claim the photos are doctored, the statements are for business expenses, and the social media posts are coincidental. You need more direct evidence."

"Like what?"

"For example, intimate videos of them, or a recording of him admitting to the affair, or a third-party witness statement."

"Third party?"

"For instance, his company's HR. Someone who can confirm that this wasn't a company retreat at all, but his personal annual leave."

My eyes lit up.

"Right, I can ask HR."

"And the private investigator. If they can get intimate videos of them, that would be irrefutable proof."

"I've already contacted one."

Ms. Harrison nodded approvingly.

"Ms. Elara, you're very smart and remarkably calm. Many people in this situation are emotionally shattered and can't do anything."

"Because I know crying won't solve anything."

I looked at her.

"I want results, not an outlet for my emotions."

"Good, then let's start preparing."

Ms. Harrison pulled out a document.

"This is a template for a divorce agreement. Take a look. Our strategy is to collect evidence first, and once it's sufficient, then file for divorce."

"He'll be back in seven days. I have seven days."

"That's enough," Ms. Harrison said.

"In these seven days, you need to do a few things: First, contact his company's HR to confirm if the company trip is real or not. Second, have the private investigator go to Bali to get videos. Third, recover his deleted chat logs; there's bound to be a lot of useful information there."

"How do I recover chat logs?"

"I have specialists who can recover deleted data from phones."

"How much?"

"$1,400."

"Okay, I'll pay it."

Ms. Harrison extended her hand.

"A pleasure working with you, Ms. Elara."

"A pleasure working with you."

Back at my parents' house, Leo was already asleep.

I sat in the bedroom and called Derek's company HR.

"Hello, Human Resources."

"Hi, I'm Derek Peterson's wife. I wanted to confirm the dates for the company's Bali retreat, if you could."

"Bali retreat?"

Ms. Evans' voice sounded confused.

"Our company didn't organize a Bali retreat this year."

My heart hammered. "No?"

"No, our annual team-building event is next month, in a different location, not Bali."

"So Derek's trip to Bali was..."

"Oh, Mr. Peterson took annual leave. Seven days, November 15th to 22nd."

*Annual leave.*

I closed my eyes.

"Okay, thank you."

"You're welcome."

I hung up, leaning back in the chair.

Annual leave.

He told me it was a company trip, but it was actually his personal annual leave.

Seven days of annual leave, taking his mistress to Bali, spending $17,000, all with our family's money.

I opened my phone and sent a SnapChat to the private investigator.

"Can you go to Bali?"

"Yes, when?"

"Now. As soon as possible."

"What do you need me to film?"

"Intimate videos of them. The clearer, the better."

"Understood."

"How much?"

"Round-trip airfare and hotel, about $2,800. Service fee $1,400. Total $4,100."

$4,100.

My pre-marital savings were $20,700. I'd saved another $6,900 over the past five years, making a total of $27,600.

I spent $20,700 on my dad's medical bills, leaving $6,900, which I transferred to Eleanor for safekeeping. Now, I needed to take out $4,100, leaving only $2,800.

But it didn't matter. As long as I got the evidence to make Derek walk away empty-handed, this $4,100 was worth it.

"Okay, I'll transfer the money."

"Received. I'll depart tomorrow."

I put down my phone, staring at the ceiling.

Derek, we've been married for five years. You went from "I'll take care of you" to "You're spending *my* money."