Chapter 120: Stolen Millions

His jaw tightened.

Hopeful.

Something had changed. And Richard had a very good idea what—or rather, who—might have changed it.

He knew there was a reason Dorian Heathcliffe had visited Bedford Hills. Diana placed his coat aside.

"I’m quite glad for her. She has suffered enough, hasn’t she?"

"Oh, are you?" Richard mocked. "Oh, has she?" He took a step toward her, the alcohol on his breath stronger now that he was close.

"You want to take her place in there? Is that what this is?"

"Richard! She has suffered enough!"

"Do not get me angry tonight, you foolish woman!"

Diana flinched automatically. But confusion kept her rooted to the spot.

"If she gets out, we are ruined!" he snapped.

"What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense!"

Richard dragged both hands over his face and turned away from her, as though she were the one exhausting him. "We lose the house. We lose every comfort you are used to."

"What?"

He turned around again and laughed bitterly. "You think this life pays for itself? This life you’re so used to, the expensive schools, this beautiful house, those little lunches with your elite friends where all of you pretend you have something important to discuss..." His mouth twisted. "It’s all Naomi’s money."

"What... what are you saying?"

Richard scoffed. "You heard me."

She shook her head. "You said Raymond owed a lot of money and Naomi inherited the debt and you were helping her pay it. You said that was why she had to keep making payments."

"Oh, use your brain! You idiot! You never wondered how we suddenly started living like this?"

"I thought your business—"

"My business?" He laughed. "You think wealth management bought all of this? I manage rich people’s money, that’s all I fucking do!!!"

Diana’s stomach dropped. Pieces of conversations she had never questioned began coming back to her. She felt suddenly sick. "You told me she owed millions."

"And what exactly did you expect me to tell you?"

"The truth!"

"The truth?" Richard stepped toward her again. "You want the truth now?"

"Yes!"

"Fine. The truth is that if Marianne gets out, everything falls apart. You like this life? You want Ethan and Millie to stay in their schools? You want this house? Your friends? Your vacations? You want me not sitting in a jail cell for embezzlement? You want our children to keep having the good life?" he demanded. "Then Marianne cannot get out of prison."

"You stole from her." Her eyes filled as the truth finally settled into place.

"All of it!" Richard snapped. "The sale of their home, the investments her father made before he died. Everything! You brought her into this house and made her my responsibility. What was I supposed to do?" he demanded.

Diana’s mouth fell open. She genuinely had no words. "So why are you making her pay again? If you already took all of it, why are you still making her pay you?"

"I have to put money back into her investments now, don’t I? How else am I supposed to do that?"

"You have to put it all back, Richard!"

"Do you have that kind of money lying around somewhere?" he asked sarcastically. "Oh, maybe somewhere around the vicinity of twenty million?"

Diana went pale. "Twenty...?" Her knees suddenly felt weak. She reached for the back of a chair.

"That was the point of her marrying Sterling. It would help my business with the right clientele, give me access to people I could never reach on my own, and the Sterlings would get her to sign everything over to me. Once everything was legally transferred, I wouldn’t owe her a dime."

"My God." Diana pressed a hand to her mouth. "My goodness... Richard, what have you done?"

"There is no time to wallow right now! Standing here crying about it is not going to put twenty million dollars back!"

"You need to do something!"

"Me? What exactly do you expect me to do?"

"I don’t know, Diana. Think!"

"You’re the one who did this!"

"Listen to me carefully. If shit hits the fan, I swear to God I will be on the next flight out of town to a non-extradition country. And your ass will be responsible for whatever is left behind."

Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "So what do we do? We cannot just stop Marianne from getting out."

"All of this started with your stupid niece getting married to that fucking mad dog," Richard said.

Diana stared at him. "You think he knows about Marianne?"

Richard inhaled slowly, visibly fighting for patience he did not have. "When you clean your ears with a Q-tip and you find resistance..." He pointed at her. "For the love of God, stop. Did you clean your brains out?"

"Speaking to me this way won’t solve things any quicker."

"Heathcliffe visited her in prison, and now she is suddenly talking about getting out."

"But we don’t know that he visited her," Diana argued.

Richard simply looked at her. He said absolutely nothing. There was no sense in the woman’s head. None whatsoever. He didn’t even blame her anymore. He blamed himself. He was the idiot who couldn’t keep it in his pants all those years ago. One stupid mistake, and somehow the bitch had trapped him in this marriage with a half-wit son.

He had wasted enough time. If he waited for Diana to understand the danger, Dorian Heathcliffe would probably be standing at their front door with forensic accountants before long. He headed straight for his office. He shut the door behind him, crossed to the desk and started up his computer.

The financial records for Raymond Bennett were exactly where he had left them. Richard opened everything again.

The paperwork he had spent years carefully arranging so that, at first glance, Raymond Bennett looked like a man who had left behind more problems than assets.

Richard leaned closer to the screen. It still looked tight. If anyone started digging properly, Richard calculated that he would have enough warning. He would be long gone before anyone found anything concrete.

That had always been his safety net. Except Marianne changed everything. If Marianne got out, she wouldn’t need forensic accounting to know something was wrong.

She had been Raymond’s wife. She knew what he owned. She knew about the investments. Most importantly, she would know instantly that there was no fucking way Raymond Bennett had died leaving millions in debt.

He sat back and rubbed both hands over his face. There had to be another solution.

By the time he finally left his office that night, he had made up his mind.

The next morning, Richard headed to work earlier than usual. He had one very specific problem to deal with.

Marianne Bennett.

He had never had anyone taken care of before. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Just as Richard stepped out of his car, a bulky man appeared directly in front of him.

Richard barely had time to register the size of him before he was shoved backward into the vehicle.

Except shove wasn’t even the right word.

The man barely seemed to use any effort. He simply pushed Richard with one side of his body, and Richard went stumbling backward so fast that he landed awkwardly across the driver’s seat.

"Move over," the man ordered.