Chapter 11 - SIX HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS
Michael refused my first three calls.
On the fourth, I left one message.
“Either you come here and tell us why you needed six hundred thousand dollars, or I give every document I have to the fraud investigators without another conversation.”
He arrived forty minutes later.
No expensive suit this time.
Jeans.
Sweatshirt.
Unshaven.
For the first time, Michael looked like a man who had lost access to the costume he had been wearing.
Ellen sat beside me.
She spoke first.
“Why did you need the money?”
Michael stared at Cassandra’s messages on my phone.
“So she told you.”
“She said enough.”
He exhaled.
“I owed someone.”
“Who?”
“A man named Victor Kane.”
I recognized the name.
Private lender.
Predatory.
Dangerous.
“How much?”
“Originally?”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“Two hundred thousand.”
“For what?”
“Investments.”
“What investments?”
“Crypto.”
I nearly closed my eyes.
“Michael.”
“I thought I could double it.”
“You borrowed two hundred thousand dollars from a private lender to speculate?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I lost most of it.”
“And interest?”
“Exploded.”
“How much do you owe now?”
He whispered, “About five hundred seventy thousand.”
There was our six hundred.
Ellen looked devastated.
“Why didn’t you come to us?”
Michael laughed without humor.
“Because Dad would have looked at me exactly like he’s looking at me now.”
I leaned forward.
“You forged my signature instead.”
“I was desperate.”
“Desperation explains behavior.”
“It doesn’t erase it.”
He looked away.
“Did Cassandra know?”
“Yes.”
“Was she helping you?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
Michael’s jaw tightened.
“She started keeping records.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
“The loan.”
“The fake signature.”
“Expenses.”
“The wedding charges.”
I understood.
Cassandra wasn’t protecting Michael.
She was building leverage.
“She planned to use it against you.”
“She said if I ever left her, she’d destroy me.”
Ellen closed her eyes.
“And you still married her?”
Michael’s answer was barely audible.
“I thought after the wedding things would get better.”
There it was.
The same lie victims tell themselves in every kind of destructive relationship.
One more milestone.
One more concession.
One more sacrifice.
Then everything will improve.
It rarely does.
“Why the DNA report?”
“She told me there was a chance I wasn’t your biological son.”
I stared at him.
“And?”
“If that was true, she said the trust could be challenged.”
“No.”
“I know that now.”
“But at the time?”
“I thought if I knew first, I could prepare.”
“By stealing the report?”
He nodded.
Ellen looked at him.
“You could have asked me.”
“I was ashamed.”
She almost laughed.
“You were ashamed to ask me about your DNA, but not ashamed to leave me on the floor?”
Michael began crying.
This time, Ellen did not comfort him.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His face went white.
“What?”
He handed me the phone.
Unknown number.
One photograph.
Cassandra standing outside a hotel.
Beside her was Victor Kane.
Underneath the image were five words.
May you like
YOUR WIFE MADE ANOTHER DEAL.
---
