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He was a desperate man with everything to lose and no moral boundaries to stop him from dragging my daughter down with him. “What’s his access to Isabella’s money?”
“That’s where it gets complicated. She has a substantial trust fund from your husband’s estate, but most of it is locked until she turns 35 or has a child.
“Yes. Joint accounts, shared credit cards, the works.”
I felt something cold and sharp settle in my chest.
David had been systematically draining Isabella’s accessible funds to finance his affair and his failing business while she grew weaker and more isolated. He’d probably convinced her that their financial problems were temporary. That he was working on solutions.
That she shouldn’t worry her pregnant mind about money. Meanwhile, he was buying jewelry for his mistress with money intended for their child’s future. “Richard, I want every account frozen today.”
“Amelia, that’s—”
“I don’t care if it’s complicated.
I don’t care if it requires emergency court orders. My daughter is lying in an ICU bed and that man is spending her money on champagne.”
Richard had worked with me long enough to know when I’d crossed from angry to implacable. He pulled out his phone and began making calls.
“Tired.
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