Chapter 4

Ethan's ambition, his desperate need for external validation, was the engine driving him straight into my trap.

He thought he was using Chloe, leveraging her connections.

He had no idea he was the one being used, by both of us.

One evening, he came home looking pleased.

"Chloe really pulled through with that German contact," he announced, "I want to get her a thank-you gift."

He handed me a thick wad of cash. "Could you pick up that designer handbag she was admiring last week? The one at Neiman's?"

He wanted me to buy his mistress a gift, using his money, to thank her for helping him. The irony was rich.

It was a transactional relationship, cloaked in ambition and superficial gratitude, and he wanted me to be the messenger.

Perfect.

I took the money, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Sure, Ethan, I can do that."

Later, I scrolled through my contacts. "Chloe" and "Chloe's Ex David."

So similar.

I dialed, feigning confusion.

"David? Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry, I was trying to call Chloe, your names are right next to each other in my phone."

A beat of silence on the other end. David's voice, when it came, was cool, measured.

"Sarah? It's been a while, no problem, what's up?"

"Oh, it's nothing really," I said, injecting a note of flustered embarrassment. "Ethan just wanted me to get Chloe a thank-you gift, a really expensive handbag, apparently she helped his business using some of your old contacts."

Another pause, longer this time.

"My contacts?" David's voice sharpened. "Which contacts specifically?"

"I'm not sure," I said innocently. "Something about a German investor? Ethan's really grateful."

David's past with Chloe was complicated, I knew that much from college gossip. He was intelligent, pragmatic, and still paid her generous alimony.

But misusing his name, his professional network, that would cross a line.

"Sarah," David said, his tone now serious, "Keep the money Ethan gave you, if Chloe needs a gift, I'll handle it."

He didn't elaborate, but I knew I'd planted the seed of suspicion.

My accidental call was anything but.

David, true to his pragmatic nature, didn't let it go.

A week later, he called me.

"Sarah, about Chloe, I did some digging." His voice was tight. "She hasn't just been misusing my name, she's been siphoning significantly more money from me than our agreement stipulates, creative accounting, looks like fraud."

I feigned shock. "Oh, David, I had no idea."

"She's been doing it for years, apparently, but it's escalated recently."

He sounded angry, betrayed.

"I've cut off the excess funds, she'll be back to her original alimony, and not a penny more, her lawyers are being informed today."

Chloe's primary income stream, the one funding her lavish lifestyle, was gone.

Ethan was about to become much more important to her.

And David, unknowingly, had just become my most powerful ally.

He ended the call by saying, "Thanks for the accidental tip-off, Sarah, I owe you one."

"Anytime, David," I replied, my voice sweet.

One favor, I'd keep that in mind.