Chapter 5

356words
In the study, harsh fluorescent light cast everything in clinical white.

The documents Mr. Pierce had delivered lay spread across my desk like a meticulously arranged deck of cards.


Chloe's "illustrious" past lay exposed—fabricated degrees, manufactured social connections, a string of affairs with married executives...

"Where shall we begin, Miss Laurent?" Mr. Pierce asked.

I tapped one document with a perfectly manicured nail, my voice steady:


"Send these—unedited—to her work email and that precious 'Ladies Who Lunch' group chat she's always flaunting."

"And Mr. Thompson?"


"Him too. Hold nothing back."

Mr. Pierce worked with surgical precision.

Hours later, as Chloe reclined for her weekly facial, her phone lit up.

Her most generous "client" was calling.

"Our arrangement is terminated," his voice cut like a blade. "I don't associate with frauds."

Then another call. And another. Her phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

She frantically checked her messages. The group chat had exploded—screenshots of her counterfeit handbag purchases, forged diplomas, and explicit texts with married men were spreading like wildfire.

"No... this can't be happening!" Her face drained of color as she snatched her purse and bolted from the salon, treatment half-finished.

Meanwhile, at Victor's office.

He slammed his fist on the conference table. "What do you mean the bank pulled our financing? What the hell am I paying you people for?"

The door flew open as Chloe burst in, mascara streaking down her cheeks, hair wild.

"Victor! Someone's destroying me! Every client has dropped me!"

Victor shook off her clutching hand with disgust. "I'm drowning here! Can you not make this worse?"

"It's Eleanor! That vindictive bitch is behind this—"

"Evidence?" Victor scoffed. "That pathetic housewife? She can't function without a man supporting her."

He jabbed the intercom. "Security, remove Ms. Reynolds from my office. Immediately."

Security appeared within seconds, half-escorting, half-dragging Chloe toward the elevators.

The panic in her eyes crystallized into pure hatred.

Victor watched the stock ticker in horror as his company's value plummeted in real time, a vein throbbing dangerously at his temple.

He couldn't possibly know that this moment—this decision to cast her aside—would haunt him for the rest of his miserable life.
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