Chapter 3

"Yes," Ms. Reynolds' eyes were sharp. "Using fabricated facts or concealing the truth for the purpose of illegal possession, thus defrauding a significant amount of public or private property. Your company's assets are their target."

"What do I need to do?"

"You need evidence. Proof that this so-called 'debt' doesn't exist at all, or that it's an illegal debt—like a gambling debt, for instance."

"The photo proves they're in an intimate relationship, but that doesn't directly prove fraud. You need harder evidence—their chat logs, call recordings, or... proof that Brandon Harris has highly unusual financial transactions."

I nodded, committing every word to memory.

It was already dark when I left the law firm.

I was just about to hail a cab home when an unknown number called.

For some reason, I picked up.

"Is this Lucas?" The voice on the other end was a man's, laced with flippancy and arrogance.

"Who's this?"

"It's Brandon Harris."

My breathing stopped dead.

"What do you want?" I forced my anger down.

"Nothing much." Brandon chuckled on the other end. "Just wanted to say hello. Heard you went to see a lawyer today?"

My pupils constricted sharply. How did he know that?

"Lucas, I suggest you save your energy. A code monkey like you can't win against us. Vanessa is mine now, and the company, too. Do yourself a favor and get a quick, clean divorce from her. Save yourself the trouble."

"Dream on!" I squeezed the words out through clenched teeth.

"Dream on? Ha."

Brandon's voice was dripping with contempt. "Why do you think Vanessa married you? You think she actually fell for a block of wood like you? She's always loved me, from beginning to end! If I hadn't failed on a big investment and needed cash for a comeback, would it ever have been your turn?"

"You were nothing but a stepping stone, a doormat... an ATM to us."

"Now, your job is finished. You can get lost."

Every single word was like a poison-dipped knife, slashing deep into my heart.

So it was true.

From the very start, it was all a scam for money.

My eight years of love, my entire trust... in their eyes, it was just a pathetic joke.

I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white.

"Brandon." My voice suddenly went cold and chillingly calm. "You will regret this."

"Regret? Ha! Hahahaha!" He laughed as if he'd just heard the world's funniest joke. "The only thing I regret in my life is not having Vanessa hook up with you sooner. To help your dear wife 'pay back' my 'gambling debt,' she really went through a lot of trouble faking those bank records and IOUs. And you, you actually think you can turn this around?"

Gambling debt!

Faked bank records!

He said it himself!

I immediately tried to hit the call recording button, but it was too late. I missed the two most crucial sentences.

But I'd already learned the most important piece of information.

"Thanks for telling me that," I said, biting off every word.

Brandon seemed to realize something. His voice chilled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means nothing. I wish you and Vanessa a very happy life together... rotting in a prison cell."

I hung up and blocked his number immediately.

Standing on the street in the deep of night, the evening wind was cold against my face.

But a fire ignited deep within me.

A stepping stone? An ATM?

Fine.

Let me show both of you how this ATM devours you whole, until nothing remains!