That evening, I placed a subtle tracking app on the shared laptop—not to spy on personal messages, but to ensure any filings or downloads were immediately flagged. I tested alerts and verified access permissions on every joint account.

Dinner passed without incident. He didn’t suspect. He was rehearsing calm, trusting I would remain compliant.

Later, I went into the study, laptop open, notifications on. Every email from the bank, the attorney, the county clerk, and the LLC registry flowed into a folder I could monitor instantly.

By 11 p.m., I leaned back in the chair, hands resting on the desk, watching the quiet house. Ethan’s footsteps upstairs, the soft hum of the heater, the faint creak of settling floors—it was normal. But I knew the clock was ticking. Friday was approaching.