Book4Chapter3
I already knew everything about Chloe. I’d had my suspicions, but a little digging revealed a pattern of manipulation and gold–digging. She was a pro at worming her way into wealthy men’s lives.
I took John’s phone and sent Chloe a message, inviting her to our house next week.
“Really?! You’re letting me come over? This is amazing! Don’t worry, Amelia will
never ;)”
know
I didn’t bother replying.
John looked at me, a mixture of fear and confusion in his eyes. I smiled, a slow, deliberate movement that sent chills down his spine.
This was just the beginning.
Chloe arrived at our house, dressed in a flimsy negligee that left little to the imagination. She froze when she saw me, her eyes widening in surprise.
“What are you doing here?”
I smiled sweetly. “This is my house, Chloe.” I walked towards her, holding a file in my hand.
“Let me give you a piece of advice,” I said, slapping the file against her cheek. “Next time you try to seduce a married man, at least have the decency to dress appropriately. This isn’t some cheap motel.
Chloe flinched, tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to hide behind John, but he turned away, avoiding her gaze. She glared at me, her face contorte–l in a mask of anger and humiliation.
37
Book4Chapter3
I tossed the file on the table. Chloe hesitated for a moment before grabbing it, her hands shaking. She flipped it open, her eyes widening as she saw the photos. scattered across the pages. Photos of her with various men, all older, all wealthy.
“High school bully who drove a classmate to attempt suicide,” I said, my voice cold. “College student who slept with her professor for good grades. And now, a corporate climber who uses sex as a ladder to the top. You’re quite the overachiever, Chloe.”
With each word I spoke, John’s face turned a shade paler. He grabbed the file from Chloe’s trembling hands, his eyes scanning the damning evidence.
Chloe sank to the floor, a pathetic mess of tears and excuses. She clung to John’s leg, begging for forgiveness. He shoved her away, his eyes filled with disgust.
I crouched down in front of her, my fingers digging into her chin. “You can continue with this charade, but I have a feeling your friend Mr. Thompson’s wife, who happens to live upstairs, would be very interested in seeing these photos.”
Chloe went silent.
She stood up, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She gathered the photos, her eyes downcast, and walked out of the house without another word.
John broke down then, collapsing onto the couch, his sobs wracking his body. I sat beside him, running my fingers through his hair.
“It’s over,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please, Amelia, let’s start over. I’ll be a better husband, I promise.”
