
Designing My Husband's Demise
Chapter 2
"Brilliant," Andre purred, his voice dripping with praise. "Giselle, you think of everything. So much more considerate than she is."
Ice flooded my veins.
That wasn't just a client file. It was the cornerstone of my career, the very reason I could survive in this viper’s nest, and the reason my name carried weight.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm.
As a designer specializing in panic rooms and safe houses for the criminal elite, I had seen betrayals far uglier than this.
I just never thought that one day, I would be the one being betrayed.
I took out my phone and hit the record button.
In the study, their conversation continued.
"When are you going to confront her, Andre? I don't want to keep sneaking around like this anymore."
"What's the rush?" Andre soothed her. "She still has her uses. Once I have her entire network and all those secrets in my hands, I'll dump her. After that, you'll be the lady of this house."
"You're terrible," Giselle giggled softly. "But what if she finds out? She's the family's Principessa, after all."
Andre let out a contemptuous snort. "So what? No matter how powerful she is outside, at home, she's just a foolish woman desperate for a man's affection. I've played her for ten years; destroying her will be a piece of cake."
So that's all I was in his eyes. A joke.
We hadn't even separated, and he was already plotting how to carve up everything I owned.
A bitter laugh threatened to bubble up in my throat. I had heard enough.
I slipped back to the bedroom without a sound and locked the door.
Right then and there, I drafted a formal petition for family arbitration. Every clause was meticulously crafted, precise and sharp, designed to ensure he would walk away with nothing from this reckoning.
Then, I attached the petition and the recording and sent them via encrypted email to my most trusted legal team. At the same time, I sent an instruction to the family's Swiss banker.
My instruction to the family's Swiss banker was simple: Initiate a top-level asset freeze. Target: Andre Cavanaugh.
The next morning, I got up as usual.
Andre was already at the dining table, eating his breakfast with his usual studied elegance.
When he saw me, he put down his knife and fork. He stood up and gave me a warm hug. In a gentle voice, he said, "Morning, darling. Did you sleep well? Sorry I was late last night. Giselle and I were discussing some design matters after you went to bed, and we lost track of time."
I calmly watched his performance. "It's fine. You work too hard."
I once settled a street war for him, nearly taking a bullet in the process.
To give him the best possible future, I worked myself to the bone, climbing from an ordinary designer to the top of my field.
Andre always said he would supply the passion and power to forge our family's future, while I provided the foundation to make it possible.
I once thought it was the perfect combination.
So when he said his nightclub needed startup capital, I didn't hesitate to sell the overseas assets my parents had left me.
When he said he needed access to the inner circle of power, I took him to every single family dinner.
I thought my sacrifices would earn me love and respect.
I had toiled for this family for ten years, only to pave the way for a pair of jackals.
An hour later, the call from the banker came.
"Ms. Rousseau, the asset freeze has been initiated. All company shares, properties, vehicles, and bank accounts under Andre Cavanaugh's name that you authorized have been frozen. Furthermore, we've found that over the past year, Giselle Monroe has been using your credentials to steal confidential blueprints from your encrypted server. She's been sending them in batches to Andre's personal offshore account."
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