My Husband Said Floor 4 Didn't Exist While Draining My $145,000 Savings—Until His Ex Revealed The 1912 Pact Sealed Above Our Bedroom
👉 Previous decision: You chose to confront Julian at his downtown architectural office.
The glass office tower gleamed in the afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the shadowy horrors of Floor 4. I walked directly into Julian’s reception area, the leather ledger clutched in my hand.
“Julian,” I said, my voice tight.
He looked up from his computer, his smile faltering as he saw the ledger. He stood, his movements stiff.
I walked to his desk and slammed the Covenant Holdings wire receipt onto the polished surface. The paper slid, stopping inches from his hand.
He paled, his eyes darting to the receipt, then to my face. “Maya, what is this?”
“You tell me,” I countered, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. “My business. My money. What is Covenant Holdings?”
Julian walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and closed the blinds with a soft whirring sound, plunging the office into a dimmer, more intimate light. He turned back, his face a mask of weary desperation.
“The money,” he began, his voice low, “is for specialized engineering consultants. To stabilize the floor’s historic joists. It’s a highly sensitive matter.”
Before I could present the damning ledger itself, before I could ask about Agnes’s story or the 1912 ritual, his finger hovered over a button on his desk phone.
“I had to,” he said, his eyes hard. “You’re stressed, Maya. Your past… it makes you vulnerable.”
He triggered an emergency administrative hold on our joint business lines. My tablet, still in my bag, buzzed with alerts. $210,000 in operational funds, frozen under a corporate marital clause.
He leaned closer, his voice a chilling whisper. “I’m saving us both from destruction. From the family curse.”
The room felt suddenly cold, the polished surfaces reflecting only my own horrified face. He had effectively cut off my escape, trapping me financially.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 10 to continue the story.
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