The man’s voice was loud enough that Isabelle could hear panic without making out the words.
Mark turned away from them.
“No.
Do not call the bank.
I said do not call anyone until I’m there.”
He listened.
“I don’t care what the notice says.”
Another pause.
“Then tell them it’s a domestic misunderstanding.”
Helen spoke calmly.
“The notice specifically states that it is not.”
Mark covered the phone.
“Stay out of this.”
“You brought company financing into your marriage,” Helen said.
“Your marriage is now leaving it.”
The CFO was still speaking.
Mark ended the call without saying goodbye.
Camille crossed her arms tighter.
“I’m getting a car.”
Mark stared at her.
“You are already in a car.”
“That car apparently belongs to her.”
Paul’s expression did not change.
Camille pulled out her phone and stepped beneath the far edge of the awning.
Mark watched her go, disbelief replacing anger for one brief second.
Then he turned back to Isabelle.
“Come upstairs.
We’ll talk privately.”
“There is nothing private left between us.”
“I made a mistake.”
“You made a series of choices.”
“It was a seat.”
“It was dinner.
It was the messages you thought I had not seen.
It was the hotel receipt your assistant accidentally forwarded.
It was Camille knowing about our penthouse.
It was her believing our marriage existed only on paper.”
Mark’s mouth opened, but no denial came.
Isabelle had not included the messages or receipt in the folder.
She did not need them to control the trust, revoke her guarantees, or file for divorce.
She had kept them because she once believed she might need proof to justify leaving.
Standing beneath the awning, she understood she did not need a jury to approve her pain.
Mark glanced toward Camille.
“Whatever happened with her is separate from the company.”
“You made nothing separate.
You built your company on my family’s backing, then treated me like an inconvenience in rooms that existed because I opened the doors.”
“I built that company.”
“You worked hard,” Isabelle said.
“And I protected the work.
Both things can be true.”
That answer unsettled him more than an insult would have.
He wanted her to claim he had achieved nothing so he could dismiss her as bitter.
Instead, she gave him the truth.
He had built something impressive.
He had also built it on support he mistook for submission.
Camille returned, looking irritated.
