Chapter 2 - The Bigamy ProblemMonday morning arrived with a crisp, electric energy. I walked into my corporate office at 7:30 a.m., flanked by two security guards and the head of Human Resources. I had already forwarded the screenshots of Alyssa’s fraudulent travel booking to the corporate compliance team.
At 8:15 a.m., Alyssa stepped off the elevator. She wasn't glowing with a bridal aura; she looked exhausted, frantic, and wearing the same clothes she had likely worn on a coach flight back from Miami. When she saw the security guards standing outside her cubicle, all the blood drained from her face.
"Alyssa Monroe," the HR director said sharply. "You are hereby terminated for gross misconduct and corporate credit card fraud. Security will escort you off the premises."
"Victoria, please!" Alyssa gasped, tears instantly springing to her eyes—the exact same tears she had used to con me into hiring her. She placed a hand over her slightly rounded stomach. "Sebastian said you guys were basically divorced! He said you were okay with this! He promised me the company would cover the trip as a wedding bonus!"
"He lied to you," I said, my voice as cold as ice. "And since you had full access to my calendar and legal files, you knew perfectly well we were still married. Enjoy the fraud charges, Alyssa."
As she was escorted out, sobbing hysterically, Naomi walked into my office carrying a thick manila folder. My lawyer looked simultaneously thrilled and disgusted.
"I pulled the public records in Florida," Naomi said, dropping the folder on my desk. "Sebastian filed a forged divorce decree to get the marriage license. Victoria, he didn't just cheat. He committed forgery and bigamy. It's a felony. And because he transmitted the forged documents across state lines, it’s a federal issue."
Before I could even process the magnitude of his stupidity, the intercom buzzed. It was building security downstairs.
"Ms. Hayes? There is a woman named Gloria here demanding to come up. She says she is your mother-in-law."
I smiled, a slow, predatory curve of my lips. "Send her up."
Gloria stepped off the elevator looking like a woman ready for a fight. She was clutching her designer handbag, her face twisted in a smug sneer. "Victoria. Sebastian called me. He is stranded at O'Hare because you vindictively canceled his car service. And the locks at the house are changed. You need to let him in to get his things."
"His things were left on the curb on Saturday night," I replied, leaning back in my leather chair. "I assume the garbage trucks collected them this morning."
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"You have no right!" Gloria shrieked. "That is his house!"
"Actually, Gloria," Naomi interrupted, sliding the property deed across the table. "The house belongs solely to Victoria. So does the car. Your son is a broke, unemployed bigamist who just forged a federal document. If I were you, I would stop worrying about his golf clubs and start looking for a criminal defense attorney."
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