Chapter 1

I filed a police report after getting ghosted for $50k. Turns out, the officer taking my statement was the ex I hadn't seen in years.

He stared at the chat logs, absolutely furious. "Fifty thousand? You slept with me for three days and all I got was a $9.99 pizza!"

I pointed at the photo. "He's way younger than you!"

"That photo is obviously fake."

He froze, eyes locked on his phone. His face darkened to a frightening purple.

"Oh, he's definitely young...That's my damn nephew. The kid hasn't even graduated high school."

Officer Ben Carter, my ex-boyfriend, sat across from me, all business. "Name?"

"Chloe," I whispered.

He glanced up,and his gaze lingered on me for a second.

"It's you!"

But just as quickly, his face iced over again.

My heart pounded with a guilty thud.

Damn. He was even hotter now. That police uniform clung to his lean waist and long legs... Ugh, Chloe, stop! Haven't you learned your lesson with pretty faces?

"Reason for your report?"he asked, not looking up from his keyboard.

I forced myself to speak. "My online boyfriend disappeared..."

"You sent him money." His sardonic chuckle was pure mockery.

"Yeah," I admitted, guilt washing over me.

He finally looked up, glancing at me.

"Five years, Chloe. Your taste and your IQ keep hitting new lows."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, his voice cold and flat, "you just fell for a classic scam. Wasted your tuition on a fantasy. Your head's full of romance novels, not common sense."

"He's not!" I shot back. "We had a real connection!"

"A 'connection'?" Ben's sneer was razor-sharp. "Let me guess. Daily 'good mornings,' a pet name, and a sudden emergency he needed cash for?"

I stared, speechless for a moment. "How did you know?"

"Hmph. He's smooth. Probably their top performer."He dismissed my shock with a cold sneer.

"Ben, that's enough!" I slammed my hand on the table. "I'm the victim here! Could you at least pretend to be professional?"

He leaned forward, his gaze pinning me in place. "My professionalism is telling you to learn some damn scam prevention, okay?"

I was so angry I couldn't speak.

Then, with the detached air of someone watching a soap opera, he prompted, "So. How did you and this scammer meet?"