Chapter 3 3

Allison sat in the back of a yellow cab as it sped uptown.

The cab jerked to a stop outside the iron gates of Columbia University's Morningside Heights campus.

Allison paid the fare, shoved her wallet into her bag, and pushed the heavy car door open.

The moment her boots hit the pavement, she saw him.

Trevor, her ex-boyfriend, was leaning against the brick wall near the dormitory entrance. He was smoking a cigarette.

Trevor spotted her. He immediately dropped the cigarette onto the concrete and crushed it under his expensive sneaker.

He plastered a sickeningly deep, affectionate look onto his face and walked quickly toward her.

"Allie, baby," Trevor said, reaching his hand out.

He tried to grab her fingers.

Allison felt a wave of pure physical nausea hit her stomach. She twisted her torso sharply to the side, completely dodging his touch.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

Trevor let his hand fall, looking hurt. "Allie, please. What happened with Kenzie was a mistake. It was just a frat party. I was drunk. It meant nothing."

Allison let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

"A mistake?" Allison asked, her voice rising. "You paid for the room at The Plaza Hotel using my secondary credit card, Trevor. That's a very expensive mistake."

Trevor's face stiffened. The fake affection vanished, replaced by a defensive scowl.

"Well, maybe if you weren't so obsessed with your family's company, I wouldn't have looked elsewhere!" Trevor shot back, stepping closer to intimidate her. "You completely ignored my emotional needs!"

The sheer audacity of his victim-blaming made the blood roar in Allison's ears.

Her eyes turned as cold as the December wind.

She pulled her left hand out of her heavy wool coat pocket.

She held it up right in front of his face, extending her ring finger.

The plain platinum wedding band caught the dull afternoon sunlight.

Trevor stared at the ring. His brow furrowed.

"What is that?" Trevor scoffed. "Did you buy a prop ring to save face? You're pathetic."

Allison looked at him with absolute deadpan calm.

"I got legally married this morning," Allison announced. Her voice didn't shake. It was a statement of absolute fact.

Trevor threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"That is the most ridiculous lie I have ever heard in my life," Trevor mocked, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

The heavy wooden doors of the dormitory suddenly banged open.

Zoe stormed out.

She was holding a massive plastic cup of iced coffee with a double shot of espresso. The ice cubes rattled loudly as she marched down the steps.

Without breaking stride, Zoe swung her arm forward.

She aggressively hurled the entire cup of freezing coffee directly onto Trevor's limited-edition sneakers.

The dark brown liquid splashed violently over the white leather and soaked into his expensive socks.

Trevor let out a high-pitched scream. He jumped backward, frantically shaking his wet feet.

"Are you crazy?!" Trevor screamed at Zoe, his face turning purple with rage.

Zoe didn't back down. She turned to the growing crowd of students walking past the gates.

"Hey everyone!" Zoe yelled at the top of her lungs. "This guy is a cheating loser who uses his girlfriend's money to pay for his hotel rooms!"

Several business school students stopped in their tracks. They pointed at Trevor's ruined shoes and immediately pulled out their phones to record the scene.

Trevor's face burned with extreme humiliation. He looked around wildly at the cameras pointed at him.

He glared at Allison, his eyes full of venom.

"You are going to regret dumping me, Allison," Trevor threatened, his voice shaking with anger.

Allison didn't say a word. She calmly pulled out her phone and started dialing the campus security emergency number.

Trevor saw the numbers on her screen. He cursed loudly, turned around, and sprinted away down the sidewalk. His wet shoes made pathetic squeaking sounds with every step.

Zoe grabbed Allison's left arm.

She pulled Allison's hand up to her face, her eyes wide with shock as she inspected the very real, very heavy platinum band.

"Holy crap," Zoe whispered.

Allison pulled her hand back and swiped her student ID card at the door scanner. The light flashed green.

They walked into the lobby and stepped into the cramped, slow-moving elevator.

The doors slid shut, sealing them inside.

"Who is the poor bastard that agreed to this?" Zoe demanded, her eyes practically sparkling with gossip.

"He's just some guy in the finance sector," Allison said vaguely, staring at the floor numbers ticking upward. "My lawyer introduced us. It's strictly to solve my property inheritance issue."

The elevator dinged and stopped at their floor.

They stepped out and walked down the long hallway lined with ugly blue carpet.

Zoe suddenly changed the subject, her energy shifting rapidly.

"Oh my god, did you hear the news that blew up the department today?" Zoe asked, waving her hands excitedly.

"No," Allison said, her mind already drifting back to the corporate audit she needed to run tomorrow morning.

"We got a new Advanced Finance professor," Zoe gushed. "Everyone says he looks like a Hollywood actor, but he is completely ruthless. A total ice king."

Allison nodded absentmindedly. She didn't care about academic gossip.

"The crazy part is," Zoe emphasized, leaning in close, "his last name is Dillard. And someone saw a wedding ring on his finger today."

Allison's hand froze on the brass doorknob of their room.

The surname hit a very specific, very sensitive nerve in her brain.

Dillard.

Her husband's name was Elliot Dillard.

But she quickly pushed the thought away. Dillard was a common name in New York. She had personally reviewed Elliot's background files before signing the prenuptial agreement. His resume was a relentless timeline of investment banking, hedge funds, and private equity. There was absolutely zero mention of any academic experience. It was an unsettling coincidence, but she simply didn't have the time or the mental bandwidth right now to stress over a million-to-one statistical anomaly.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open, completely unaware of the trap she was walking into.