Line items 5, 33, 46, 62 and 78 were the ones he had to authorize. He had checked and double-checked each fabricated payee and its payment details.

These would be the final transactions. He would then reinvest the funds in stable bonds—boring bonds, as his wife would say.

They had married in their early thirties, taking out a considerable loan to satisfy her desire for a grand wedding in a historic building with a large garden, abundant flower decorations, and an open bar for their 500 guests.

In the following years, his thrill-seeking wife regularly cheated on him. At least one instance involved a lower-ranking colleague whom she seduced during a company retreat. That time, he made sure the guy got fired over some other triviality.

Dependability was what he was known for, trusted for, continuously promoted for. It didn’t grant him a faithful wife, but it did provide him with ample payment authorization limits at the company.

He knew she wouldn’t leave him. She thrived on the attention that came with being a pillar of society. A lifestyle funded entirely by his dependability.

He could not leave her because the tremor in his hands and the numbness in his left leg were getting worse every morning.

He had overinvested in the tropical hardwood investment project, silencing the warnings of his inner voice. He had been swept up in the “gung-ho” fervor of the carefully curated group of premium investors. A group so carefully curated, that except for him, all had one thing in common: they had been in on the scam.

Line items 5, 33, 46, 62, and 78.

As long as there was money, the prenup guaranteed her presence until his final, wheezing breath.

He clicked ‘Approve’.

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