Chapter 6 - The Smoking Gun
I had forgotten about the drive. In the chaos of the move, I had shoved a flash drive from Mark’s office into my pocket. I hadn't even looked at it.
Dad and I sat at the kitchen table. We plugged it into a secure laptop.
The contents made me physically ill. It wasn't just evidence of his financial instability. It was a record—logs of embezzlement, money laundering, and evidence that Mark had been funneling money from his clients into accounts linked to illicit overseas operations.
"This isn't just a bad marriage," Dad whispered, his face darkening. "This is a felony roadmap."
If Mark got out, he would destroy me to keep this quiet. He wasn't just a husband who slapped me; he was a criminal who viewed me as a liability.
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"What do we do?" I asked.
Dad stood up, grabbing his jacket. "We go to the Feds. And we do it before his lawyer tries to strike a deal with the local DA."
