One document caught my eye: a contract with a major national beverage brand, signed just three weeks ago.

The retainer was sixty-five thousand dollars a month, paid directly to his agency’s primary commercial account.

My phone rang in my hand, the vibration startling me.

The caller ID showed Richard’s name.

I took a deep breath, pressed answer, and held the phone to my ear.

“Richard,” I said.

“Alex,” his voice was smooth, carrying that familiar tone of patronizing pity. “I assume you’ve seen the account balance by now.”

“I saw it,” I said, keeping my voice level.

“I had to protect myself,” he said. “You’re being completely unreasonable about the house, and I have immediate expenses. Valerie and I are finalizing our arrangements.”

“You took our children’s college fund, Richard.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he said. “The agency is doing well. I’ll replenish those funds later. Right now, I needed the liquidity.”

“You spent eighty-five thousand dollars on a yacht charter,” I said.

I could hear him sigh on the other end of the line.