Other losses remained contested.
And authorities conducted their own review.
There was no dramatic midnight arrest.
No courtroom confession on the spot.
Real financial investigations were slower and more complicated.
But day by day, the story Brandon had built began collapsing under the weight of documents he couldn’t explain.
Three months after the divorce, Brandon requested a meeting through our attorneys.
I agreed to attend at my lawyer’s office.
Dad came with me.
Brandon looked different.
His hair was unkempt.
His expensive watch was gone.
The confident smile I’d known for nine years had disappeared.
When I entered, he stood.
“Elena.”
I sat down.
He glanced at Dad.
“Does he have to be here?”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
Brandon sighed.
Then leaned forward.
“I never meant for things to get this far.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“The company was growing. I thought the consulting arrangement could help both of us.”
