Chapter 7 - LACEY’S VERSION
Lacey asked for a proffer meeting with the board’s independent counsel.
Not police.
Not prosecutors.
Corporate investigation.
She wanted protection from termination “without a full review.”
That was not immunity.
Still, she was talking.
Her version painted Damon as architect and herself as increasingly trapped.
Convenient.
She admitted:
Meridian North was designed to acquire the waterfront parcel.
She invested through Monroe Strategic Partners.
Damon invested through DH Strategic Holdings.
She knew the resale letter of intent existed.
She knew Halstead’s independent investors had not been told Damon had an economic interest in the buyer.
She claimed Damon told her the conflicts would be disclosed after closing.
That made little sense.
Disclosure after closing is not meaningful consent.
Then my signature.
Lacey denied forging it.
She said Damon gave her a signed consent PDF and told her I had approved.
But she later signed the witness certification.
“Did you actually witness Raina sign?”
“No.”
There.
At minimum, false certification.
Then the message screenshot.
She admitted she prepared the cropped image.
Why?
Damon asked for “supporting context” showing I was willing to sell assets.
She claimed she did not know he would present it as waterfront approval.
Maybe.
Then she addressed the affair.
“Yes.”
No romantic ambiguity.
They had been sleeping together for five months.
During my pregnancy.
The bedroom?
Damon invited her to stay after he told her I was leaving.
The robe?
She knew it was mine.
“Why wear it?”
Lacey looked down.
“I was angry at her.”
At me.
“Why?”
“Because Damon still talked about fixing the marriage.”
There.
Not innocent mistress.
Not powerless employee.
A participant with her own cruelty.
Then the kennel.
She heard Damon threaten to put me outside earlier that evening.
She assumed he was joking.
When he dragged me toward the kennel, she did not stop him.
She laughed once.
The patio audio captured it.
I had forgotten.
That hurt more than her robe.
Then independent counsel asked the question that changed everything.
“Why was Raina’s consent so important if Damon believed he could forge it?”
Lacey’s answer:
“Because the bank wanted wet-ink confirmation if Calder Family Capital challenged the transfer.”
So the forged PDF was enough to keep internal documents moving.
Not enough to survive scrutiny.
They needed the real signature eventually.
And they had a plan to get it.
“What plan?”
Lacey hesitated.
“Damon said after the baby came, Raina would be too exhausted to keep fighting.”
The same ugly logic I had seen elsewhere.
Pregnancy as leverage.
Recovery as weakness.
Then:
“He said if she thought she might lose the house, she’d sign.”
There.
The house threat.
Not because Damon secretly owned it.
Because he believed divorce, custody, and money would scare me into surrender.
“He said what about the baby?” counsel asked.
Lacey looked sick.
“That Raina would never risk raising a newborn alone.”
My hands shook when Naomi told me.
Not because I believed him.
Because he believed I would.
Then Lacey added one more thing.
Damon had prepared a post-birth settlement proposal.
Terms:
I would keep the house temporarily.
Receive generous monthly support.
Avoid public divorce.
In exchange:
Sign the waterfront consent.
Waive claims against Meridian.
Agree not to challenge his company transactions.
Then, after one year, formal separation.
A contract built around my postpartum exhaustion.
Naomi obtained a copy from Lacey.
Draft only.
Never signed.
But it proved intent.
Then I saw the filename.
PROJECT CEDAR.
The dog kennel had been made of cedar.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
I almost let my mind turn it into symbolism.
Naomi stopped me.
“Do not overread filenames.”
Right.
May you like
Evidence first.
Still, when I slept that night, I dreamed of the kennel door closing again.
