He scrolled slowly on his screen, the light bouncing off his manicured fingernails.

“A series of unusual transactions,” he said.

“They were perfectly normal household expenses,” I replied.

He looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“A five-thousand-dollar retainer to Margaret Crane’s law firm is not a household expense, Catherine.”

He set his phone face-down on the dark marble.

“And neither are the cash withdrawals you made from the branch downtown yesterday.”

I held my breath, my fingers tightening around the strap of my leather handbag.

“I have a right to my family’s money, Nathan.”

“It isn’t just your money anymore,” he said, taking a slow step toward me.

The ice in his glass clinked against the crystal.

“We are married, and we have a child on the way.”

“Which is exactly why I am securing my future,” I said.

Nathan sighed, a sound of heavy, patronizing disappointment.

“Your future is secure with me, but your behavior lately is not.”

He took another step, his leather shoes silent on the hardwood floor.

“You’ve been tracking my movements, you’ve been interrogating Sloane, and now you are hiding funds.”