Chapter 7 - The Recording
I did not watch the video at first.
Detective Ortiz advised against it.
My father practically ordered me not to.
Henry said there was no legal reason for me to subject myself to it.
But by eight in the morning, the police had confirmed what the hidden camera captured.
Everything.
The first strike.
The vase breaking.
Matthew's voice.
My voice.
All twenty blows.
The order to clean myself up.
His departure.
There was no angle to argue.
No accidental fall.
No moment where I threatened him.
No ambiguity.
The camera had been installed by Matthew's own private security contractor.
That detail would become almost poetic.
The device he placed in our home because he wanted control had preserved the truth that destroyed his excuses.
At 8:23, Detective Ortiz returned to my room.
"We have enough to request a warrant."
My father stood beside the window.
"For his arrest?"
She nodded.
"Assuming the prosecutor signs off."
I felt no triumph.
Only exhaustion.
"Where is he?"
"His attorney says he's at the NexusCore office."
Henry glanced at his phone.
"Not anymore."
We all looked at him.
"The board suspended him."
My father exhaled.
"Good."
I turned to Henry.
"Already?"
"Six-to-zero vote."
"What happens now?"
"Daniel Cho becomes acting CEO."
I stared at the ceiling.
Daniel had been with us since the Series A round.
He had once worked sixteen hours straight beside me when our first enterprise client threatened to walk.
Matthew always called him too cautious.
I called him honest.
Henry continued.
"Matthew's access to company systems has been revoked."
"And Lauren?"
"Administrative leave."
My heart tightened.
"She knows?"
"She was escorted out of the office forty minutes ago."
My father looked almost satisfied.
I wasn't.
Because Lauren had not swung the cane.
Matthew had.
And somewhere beneath all my anger toward her, I knew that mattered.
"Did Lauren know about TMG?"
Henry stared at me.
"She owns it."
"What?"
"Eighteen-point-six million in NexusCore payments."
For a moment, the numbers did not feel real.
"You're sure?"
"According to the beneficial ownership filings."
My stomach turned.
"So Matthew wasn't just having an affair."
"No."
"He was paying her."
"Apparently."
"With company money."
"Potentially."
Henry always guarded his words.
I appreciated that.
My father did not.
"He was stealing."
Henry glanced at him.
"We are not making that statement yet."
"I am."
"Dad."
He looked at me.
"Please."
His shoulders lowered.
"Fine."
I closed my eyes.
The room became quiet.
A nurse entered and checked the IV.
When she left, I whispered,
"I want to see one part."
My father immediately shook his head.
"No."
"Not the strikes."
"What part?"
"The end."
Detective Ortiz understood.
She took out her tablet.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She opened the preserved clip and moved to the final minute.
I watched myself lying on the marble.
Matthew stood above me.
His breathing had slowed.
He looked at the cane.
Then at me.
There was no panic on his face.
No horror.
No sudden realization that he had gone too far.
He simply adjusted his cuff.
"Clean yourself up."
The words sounded even colder on video.
Then he straightened his tie.
"And don't test my patience again."
He walked away.
The front door closed.
Detective Ortiz stopped the recording.
I stared at the black screen.
For years, one part of me had secretly believed that if Matthew truly understood how badly he hurt me, he would become the man I thought I married.
The video killed that illusion.
He understood.
He simply believed hurting me was permitted.
I handed the tablet back.
"Thank you."
My father sat beside me.
"For what?"
May you like
I looked at him.
"For letting me see what I kept refusing to see."
