The accounting report arrived on a Thursday morning.
I was halfway through a meeting when my CFO sent a message asking whether I could speak privately. I excused myself, crossed the corridor, and entered the small conference room beside my office. The windows overlooked a narrow street where workers were unloading crates outside a restaurant.
My CFO, Daniel Price, was already waiting with a laptop and a thick folder.
“We've verified enough to narrow the review,” he said. “We still haven't reached a final conclusion, but we can now explain why several transactions were flagged.”
I sat across from him.
“Go ahead.”
He opened the folder and showed me a payment schedule. The vendors had submitted invoices for consulting services, administrative support, and market research. Some of the descriptions were broad, but that alone was not unusual. What concerned the accounting team was that the underlying documentation did not support several of the charges.
“We requested work records and delivery confirmations,” Daniel explained. “For some payments, the vendors provided nothing. For others, they sent documents that appear to have been created after the invoices were questioned.”
“Can we establish that the work wasn't done?”
“Not yet for every transaction. But we can establish that the records currently provided don't substantiate the payments.”
He turned to another page.
“One vendor used a mailing address associated with a consulting business connected to Mauro. That doesn't establish ownership, but it gives us a concrete relationship to investigate.”
I read the address twice.
It was not the address of Mauro's office. It belonged to a commercial building where he had once told me he was meeting a potential partner. I remembered the conversation because he had returned that evening unusually cheerful and had suggested that his next business venture could finally make his family financially independent.
He had never mentioned the vendor.
“Who approved the payments?” I asked.
“The authorization logs identify a user account associated with Mauro's consulting access for two of the transactions. We're checking whether that account was used by him personally and whether the access was appropriate.”
“Could someone else have used his credentials?”
“Yes. That's one of the things we're checking.”
I leaned back.
The evidence was becoming more specific, but it was not yet conclusive. I would not allow my anger at my husband to substitute for proof.
“What do you recommend?”
“An independent review of the affected transactions, a preservation of all relevant records, and a temporary restriction on the disputed payment process until we can verify the invoices. We'll follow the company's established procedures and document every step.”
“Proceed.”
Daniel closed the folder.
“I should also tell you that someone requested copies of several vendor records yesterday.”
“Who?”
“The request came through the ordinary business channel, but the requester didn't provide the supporting authorization we require. We declined to release the records until the request could be verified.”
“Was it Mauro?”
“We don't know. We're checking.”
I thanked him and asked him to send the report to Veronica through the appropriate channel.
After he left, I remained in the conference room, looking at the payment schedule. A part of me wanted the records to prove that Mauro had nothing to do with the questionable transactions. It would have been a relief to discover that the overlap was coincidental, that the missing documentation had an ordinary explanation, and that the marriage could be separated from the company's problems.
But another part of me feared that I had spent years trusting a man who had learned to make every uncomfortable question sound like a personal attack.
I returned to my office and found three missed calls from Mauro.
I called him back.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
“At work.”
“I need to know what you're telling people about me.”
“I'm not discussing unverified findings with anyone outside the review.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the answer I can give you.”
He made a frustrated noise. “Someone from the company contacted me about old invoices. Do you know anything about that?”
“Yes. The company is reviewing certain transactions.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because the review is ongoing, and I don't want to influence it.”
He laughed sharply. “You mean you don't want me to explain myself.”
“If you have relevant information, you can provide it to the accounting team.”
“You're treating me like a criminal.”
“No. I'm treating the records as records.”
He fell silent.
Then he said, “You know I introduced those vendors to the company. They were legitimate contacts. I was trying to help.”
“Then the documentation should establish what work they performed.”
“You're making this sound much worse than it is.”
“I'm not making it sound like anything. I'm asking for the records to be verified.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone for several seconds. His response had not proved wrongdoing, but it had revealed something important: he knew which vendors were under review, and he understood the significance of the questions.
I documented the call and sent a factual note to Veronica.
She replied that I should avoid further discussion of the transactions with Mauro and allow the independent review to continue.
That afternoon, the bank contacted me about the Platinum card. The representative confirmed that the disputed charges were being examined and asked for copies of the note Mauro had left behind. I provided the requested documentation.
There was no dramatic announcement, no sudden declaration that every charge had been reversed. The process would take time, and I understood that. What mattered was that the transactions were being reviewed through the proper channels.
By early evening, I returned home to find Mauro waiting in the study.
He had removed his jacket and loosened his tie. A half-empty glass stood on the desk beside a stack of papers. He looked tired, but his eyes sharpened when I entered.
“We need to talk about the company,” he said.
“Veronica has advised me not to discuss the review with you.”
“Of course she has. She's making money from your divorce.”
“Veronica is my attorney. Her job is to protect my interests.”
“And what about our marriage? Does that mean nothing to you?”
I looked at him.
“It means enough that I expected honesty.”
He stood and walked toward the bookshelves. “Those vendors were contacts I brought in. I helped the company when you needed introductions. I don't understand why you're acting as though I've done something terrible.”
“Then provide the documentation requested.”
“I don't have all of it.”
“Who does?”
He turned around.
“I don't know.”
The answer came too quickly.
I didn't challenge him. I simply waited, giving him an opportunity to reconsider.
He looked toward the door and then back at me.
“Rebecca, listen to me. Business isn't as simple as you want it to be. Sometimes you have to move quickly. Sometimes you pay for services before every document is finalized. That's how opportunities work.”
“Then the records should show what was purchased and delivered.”
“You always need everything in writing.”
“Yes.”
He stared at me as if that single word had disappointed him more than any accusation could have.
I remembered the early days of my company, when I had signed my name to contracts that represented more money than I had ever seen in one place. I had learned to document every commitment because trust without accountability could ruin a business.
Mauro had benefited from that discipline for years. Now he seemed offended that I intended to apply it to him.
“Did you use the company to pay one of your personal debts?” I asked.
His expression changed.
“No.”
“Did you authorize payments to a business you controlled?”
“No.”
“Then the review should establish that.”
He stepped closer. “You really think I would steal from you?”
I held his gaze.
“I think the records need to answer that question.”
For several seconds, he looked as though he might shout. Instead, he picked up his jacket and walked out of the study.
I heard the front door close a minute later.
I remained beside the desk, staring at the abandoned glass. The questions had been straightforward. His answers had been incomplete, defensive, and strangely focused on my willingness to trust him rather than on the transactions themselves.
I did not yet know what the final report would establish.
But I knew that trust could no longer be the only evidence I required.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Message Mauro Tried to Hide Arrived Too Late, Because Veronica Had Already Found the Connection Between His Debts and My Company
He Stole My Platinum Card for a Luxury Vacation, Never Realizing the Woman He Threatened Had Already Prepared Her Final Move
Part 7 of 20
