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I found my daughter crying in the kitchen, eating scraps from dirty plates while her husband smiled and said, “She deserves it.”

PART 2 — THE CONTRACT

Robert answered on the second ring.

“Margaret?”

“I need your help.”

He heard Chloe crying in the background.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know everything yet. But I know my daughter is being abused.”

There was a pause.

“Bring her to my office first thing tomorrow morning. And don’t tell Damian where you are.”

I promised.

But before we could hang up, Chloe suddenly grabbed my arm.

“Mom.”

“What?”

“He knows.”

“Who?”

“Damian.”

My stomach tightened.

“How would he know?”

She pointed toward the window.

A black SUV was parked across the street.

Its headlights were off.

Robert immediately told me to leave through the back entrance.

We did.

And that was the first night I realized Damian wasn’t simply controlling my daughter.

He was watching her.


PART 3 — THE LAWYER

The next morning, Robert examined everything Chloe had brought from the restaurant.

Pay stubs.

Emails.

Texts.

A notebook.

Receipts.

And finally, a document Damian had forced her to sign shortly after their wedding.

Robert read it twice.

Then he looked at Chloe.

“Did you understand what this was when you signed it?”

She shook her head.

“Damian told me it was an agreement saying I’d help him with the restaurant.”

Robert’s expression hardened.

“It isn’t that simple.”

He pointed to a section near the bottom.

“This says Chloe transferred ownership of her design work created during the marriage to Damian’s company.”

Chloe stared at him.

“But I never agreed to that.”

“You signed it under circumstances that may make the agreement challengeable.”

Then Robert turned another page.

His eyes widened.

“There’s something else.”

The contract stated that Chloe would work at The Hearth without salary for eight months in exchange for “housing, food, and marital support.”

Chloe whispered:

“I thought I was helping my husband.”

Robert shook his head.

“You weren’t helping him. You were working for him.”

I felt my hands begin to shake.

“How much work?”

Chloe lowered her eyes.

“Usually twelve or fourteen hours a day.”

Robert calculated the hours.

Then he looked at me.

“That’s potentially hundreds of hours of unpaid labor.”

But that wasn’t even the worst part.

PART 4 — THE SECRET FILE

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