Chapter 2

Matthew, being the hopeless romantic he was, latched onto my new narrative like a drowning man to a life raft. His entire demeanor shifted from despair to determination.

"A test," he repeated, his voice filled with a dawning, idiotic conviction. "You really think so?"

"I know so," I said, my expression a mask of earnest sympathy. "She' s been hurt before. She needs to know you're serious. You need to prove your love, show her that you'll provide for her and her family, no matter what." I made sure to add the part about her family, knowing full well who that meant. "That little nephew of hers, he needs a stable father figure."

His face hardened with resolve. He pulled out his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen. I didn't need to see it to know he was texting Sabrina, swallowing the bait whole. He put the phone to his ear. I watched him, a predator watching its prey walk willingly into a snare.

His side of the conversation was a pathetic series of apologies. "I'm so sorry, baby... I should have trusted you... I understand... Yes, of course."

He hung up, looking at me with a new kind of desperation.

"She'll forgive me," he announced, a proud tremor in his voice. "But she says I need to make it right. She needs $40,000. For her nephew's future education fund. As an apology for my lack of trust."

"That's a lot of money, Matthew," I said, feigning concern.

"I know, but I have to do it," he said, pacing my small living room. "The thing is... I already spent most of the insurance money on the house down payment and... other things." He looked at me, the unspoken question hanging in the air. "Elyse, can you help me? A loan? I'll pay you back, I swear."

This was the moment. I sighed, a long, theatrical sigh of a put-upon younger sister. I held up my wrist, showing him the cheap-looking watch I wore.

"Matthew, look at this. It's a knockoff. I had to sell the real one Dad gave me. Mom and Dad's funeral, the hospital bills... they wiped me out. I have nothing left."

The lie was seamless. In reality, my savings were untouched, nestled safely in a high-yield account.

Panic flashed across his face. "But... what am I going to do?"

I let him stew in it for a moment before offering the solution I had prepared. "I've heard guys at work talk about a guy... a loan shark. They say he's fast. I don't know, Matthew, it's risky."

Desperation made him reckless. "Give me the number, Elyse. I have to do this for her."

As soon as he left my house, buzzing with a misguided sense of purpose, I picked up my phone. My first and only call was to Maria Clarkson.

"Maria, it's me."

"Elyse. What's wrong? You sound different."

"I need a favor. A big one. I'm wiring you forty grand. I need your family's firm to be the anonymous backer for a loan. A predatory one. The target is Matthew Johns."

There was a pause on the other end. Maria knew my family situation. She knew Matthew.

"Consider it done," she said, her voice devoid of questions. "What are the terms?"

"The highest possible interest. And when the time comes for collection, I want your people to be relentless. No mercy."

"Elyse..."

"Just do it, Maria. Please."

"Okay," she said, her loyalty absolute. "I'll handle it. The money will be in his hands by tomorrow."

I hung up and transferred the money. It was a strange feeling, spending $40,000 to ruin my own brother. But it felt like justice.