The Bitter Truth Read Online Shanora Williams

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
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“So, you’re telling me I have to fly to Mexico and Italy just to figure out where the hell my money is going?” I paced the living room with an early glass of wine in hand.

“I’m afraid so. There’s nothing I can do from my end other than put a freeze on the deposits.”

“I never did this, Anita,” I told her. “There is nothing in Italy or Mexico for me! Hell, I’ve never even traveled there.” Unfortunately. Italy was on my bucket list though.

She sighed on the other end. I could hear her children in the background, yelling as they played. I hate that I’d interrupted her day off, but I needed answers.

“Listen, Joey.” The way she said my name gave me a zing of nostalgia and I paused mid-sip. Only Daddy and Mom called me Joey. It was more endearing from Daddy. More of a patronizing thing from my mother. But Anita was basically like family, so she called me by that name too on occasion. It made me feel like a real person again, not just a shell of who I was. “Talk to your husband, okay?” she insisted. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but he’s the one who contacted me about setting up the deposits for the sold share. He told me this was something you two had planned because you were struggling financially. Said you wanted him to handle it because you were ashamed. Your signatures were on the papers for the company approval and with him having joint access, I figured this was something you wanted. I realize now that I should’ve called to triple check. I’m sorry.”

“But I . . .” I stood in the middle of the living room, blinking back tears. I refused to cry and instead drew in a breath and closed my eyes to cool the burn behind them. “Put a freeze on the money until I figure out what’s going on.”

“I will tomorrow.” She paused. “And by the way, he cashed in a few bonds too. That money plus the money from the brokered share are going into three accounts, Jolene. Not two. I didn’t tell your mom this, but the third one goes to an account in South Carolina.”

“South Carolina?” I repeated.

“Yes. Have a good night,” Anita said, and the call ended.

That was hours ago. I went to bed with a bottle of wine, finished it off, then cried myself to sleep. I’d sent a text to Daphne asking if we could meet on Monday, and she said to swing by for lunch.

Now I’m at my best friend’s house, seated on the plush brown sofa in her living room. One of the two casement windows ahead is open, letting in a fall breeze. The breeze is soothing as it brushes across my skin. I wish it could calm my nerves, but it’s useless. All I can think about is Dominic, his lies, the accounts, even the attempted break-in. There is so much chaos going on and I feel like I’m in the middle of it all, yet I’m blind to what’s really happening. I’m watching the hurricane spin toward me, threatening to rip everything I’ve built apart. I have a bunker, but I’m the idiot standing outside, waiting to be swept up because I want—no, need to know more about how dangerous it is.

I sit with my arms folded, leg bouncing just as Daphne walks my way from the kitchen. I watch her as she places a tray of tea and miniature sandwiches on the coffee table. She looks really pretty today in a pink dress, hair pulled into a neat, braided ponytail. She pours tea into each cup then offers one to me on a saucer. I unfold my arms and take it, avoiding her eyes.

“You ready to talk now, or what?” she asks after pouring a drizzle of honey into her cup. I suppose it was rude of me to come inside with a measly hello and saunter straight to the living room. She knew I was upset before arrival, but still. I have more manners than that.

“I’m sorry for how I walked in here, girl,” I murmur. “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it yet.” I sip my English tea as it is. No need to sweeten up my already sour mood. I want to cling to this anger, so that I can confront Dominic just as I am when he steps through the doors of our house. He went to Greensboro on Sunday and returns today, likely in an hour or two. He has a meeting around four but should be home afterward. I only know about the meeting because I called Melissa to see what his schedule was like.

“It’s just . . . the money, Jo,” Daphne murmured. “He spoke to Anita behind your back. Forged your signature. Sold a whole share and cashed in your bonds right under your nose. He’s using your money and doing whatever he wants with it.”


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