Chapter 2

I felt sick.

The noise of the gala, the laughter, it all faded.

Betrayal. Sharp and deep.

He didn' t even have the decency to use his own account.

He used the joint one, the one I carefully managed, paid on time, every time.

The one that represented our partnership. Or what I thought was our partnership.

My hands shook, but my mind was clear.

I stood up, walked out of the main hall, into a quieter corridor.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers flying over the screen.

Credit card company. Customer service.

"Thank you for calling, how can I help you?" a calm voice said.

"Hello," I said, my voice steady, surprisingly so. "This is Sarah Miller, primary account holder for card ending in 7756."

"Yes, Ms. Miller. How can I assist you today?"

"I need to report some highly suspicious activity. And I' m about to travel internationally, unexpectedly."

A small lie, but necessary.

"I need a temporary freeze placed on all supplementary cards linked to my account. Immediately."

"All supplementary cards, ma'am?"

"Yes. Effective now. Can you confirm when that's done?"

There was a pause, some typing.

"Okay, Ms. Miller. The freeze on all supplementary cards is now active."

"Thank you," I said and hung up.

I took a deep breath.

Mark had given Tiffany a supplementary card months ago. "For business emergencies," he'd said.

I hadn't liked it, but I trusted him. Fool.

I walked back towards the exit, past the payment counters.

And there was Tiffany.

Her smile was wide, her voice loud, handing over a card to the cashier.

The same card Mark gave her. Our joint card.

The cashier swiped it.

A small beep.

The cashier frowned, swiped it again.

Another beep. "I'm sorry, ma'am, this card is being declined."

Tiffany' s smile vanished. "What? Run it again. It' s a high-limit card."

"I did, ma'am. Declined."

Snickers started around them. Tech wives, investors, the people Mark and I knew.

Their eyes were on Tiffany, on her sudden problem.

"This is ridiculous!" Tiffany hissed, her face turning red. "There must be a mistake."

She fumbled in her purse, probably for another card, but the damage was done.

The humiliation was public.

She had to abandon the NFT.

I watched her storm away, muttering about her "idiot boyfriend."

A small, cold satisfaction settled in me.

It wasn't a victory, not really. But it was something.