Chapter 2

Chad let out a loud sneer over the line. "Chloe, have you lost your mind? You're asking me for a million? What proof do you have? You gave that to me as a gift! You think you can take back a gift?"

"My proof is in your corporate bank statements from the month you registered the LLC," I said. "That $300,000 went from my personal account to your card, and that exact same day, you transferred it straight into the corporate account. The transfer memo clearly reads: 'Investment Capital.'"

"So what if it does?"

"Chad, 'investment capital' means I am an equity shareholder in your company."

I opened the folder Ethan had given me. "Under commercial law and corporate bylaws, I have the absolute legal right to audit every single financial record and assert shareholder equity. Would you like me to calculate your net profits over the past three years for you?"

"You f—" Chad’s voice abruptly cut off.

A woman’s sharp voice came through the receiver: "Chad, who are you talking to?"

It was Gia Sterling.

Then, the call went dead.

I set the phone down. Ethan stepped out from behind the desk and handed me a warm cup of water.

"Attorney Miller has already served the formal legal notice to the Sterlings," he said. "Tomorrow morning at nine, Gia’s father is coming here in person."

"What does he want to discuss?"

"Whether his daughter should clear up an ugly equity fraud dispute before walking down the aisle," Ethan said. "The Sterling family has been in high society for decades. They can't afford to be dragged through the mud."

At seven in the evening, the moment I arrived home, my phone started buzzing violently.

Chad had sent over a dozen voice notes on SnapChat. I didn't click a single one, only reading the final text message.

"Chloe, I never thought you could be such a shameless parasite. You latched onto Ethan Vance and think you’re untouchable now? You think I won't air all your dirty laundry? Does Ethan know what kind of desperate girl you were when you were with me?"

I texted back: "He knows."

Chad: "???"

I added: "I showed him every single text between us, from three years ago until today. Every 'Chloe, I love you,' right down to every 'Gia needs me more.' He saw it all. Including the transfers you begged from me to pay for your VIP nightclub bills—the ones you lied and said were client dinners. He saw every single one."

Chad went silent for ten minutes.

Then came his final text.

"Fine, Chloe. You want to play dirty? Let’s play. You’re more than welcome at my wedding tomorrow. Come see for yourself that no matter how hard you kick and scream, you won't stop me from marrying Gia. Audit those damn shares all you want; you won't see a single dime. The company accounts have been drained dry for months. Don't believe me? Try it."

I believed him.

I knew Chad better than anyone. He always left himself a backdoor; stripping corporate assets was completely his style.

But it didn't matter.

Ethan had said it best: to crush someone like Chad, you don't roll in the dirt with him. You stay spotless. Spotless enough to leave him no escape.

At nine the next morning, old Mr. Sterling arrived at the office.

A man in his sixties, sharp and imposing, flanked by two attorneys and an executive assistant.

Ethan waited for him in the boardroom, two dossiers laid out on the table.

One was the exclusive development agreement for the Westside parcel. The other was the comprehensive forensic audit report of Chad’s firm over the past three years.

"Uncle Arthur," Ethan stood up and shook his hand. "Long time no see."

"Ethan, what is the meaning of this?" Mr. Sterling sat down, his face unreadable. "My daughter is getting married next month. Using land rights to corner me right now—don't you think that’s in poor taste?"

"Uncle Arthur, I’m not here to talk about land rights today." Ethan slid the second file over. "I’m here to discuss the rightful ownership of the thirty percent equity in your future son-in-law's company."