Chapter 3 - The Mistress’s Secret
Clover Vance—or at least, the woman who claimed that name—tried to maintain her composure. She smoothed her wine-stained silver dress and lifted her chin, playing the victim.
“I have nothing to do with their business,” Clover said, her voice trembling perfectly. “I’m just a guest. Isaac lied to me, too! He told me he was leaving his wife. I’m a victim here. Please, let me leave.”
Isaac looked at her, betrayed. “Clover, what are you doing? We love each other!”
Caleb chuckled. It was a dark, hollow sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Caleb was the brother who lived in the shadows, the intelligence broker who knew everyone’s secrets before they even realized they had them.
“Love is a strong word, Chloe,” Caleb said, leaning against the piano.
Clover’s entire body stiffened.
“Who is Chloe?” Isaac asked, looking frantically between his mistress and my brother.
Caleb tapped his tablet again. The screen shifted from the Vance family’s ruined financials to a police mugshot of a woman with dark hair and a bruised lip. It was Clover, looking about ten years younger and far less polished.
“Chloe Jenkins,” Caleb announced to the room. “Two convictions for wire fraud in Nevada. One conviction for extortion in Florida. She targets wealthy, arrogant men with failing marriages. She plays the devoted, starry-eyed mistress, gathers compromising material, and then drains their accounts before vanishing.”
“No,” Isaac whispered, shaking his head. He looked at Clover. “Tell them it’s a lie.”
Clover said nothing. Her sweet, innocent mask had completely vanished, replaced by a hardened, calculating glare.
“It gets better,” Caleb continued cheerfully. “Isaac, remember that two million dollars you ‘invested’ in Clover’s boutique marketing startup three months ago? The money you hid from Flora?”
Isaac’s face turned gray.
“Chloe didn’t start a company,” Caleb said, projecting a series of wire transfers onto the screen. “She routed that money directly into an offshore account in the Bahamas. An account co-owned by her legal husband, a gentleman named Victor who is currently sitting in a beach house waiting for her to finish bleeding you dry. She isn't pregnant with your child, Isaac. She’s been slipping you synthetic hormones to fake the ultrasound results while she packed her bags.”
The absolute devastation on Isaac’s face was almost pitiful. He had tied his own wife to a ceiling beam and whipped her like an animal to defend the honor of a woman who was actively stealing his last remaining dollars to fund a life with another man.
Isaac let out a guttural scream and lunged at Clover. “You bitch! You ruined me!”
Before Isaac could even take two steps, Leo caught him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. The impact rattled the expensive paintings. Leo didn't even look angry; he just looked bored.
“Don’t touch her,” Leo warned, his grip tightening until Isaac gasped for air. “She’s a parasite, but you invited her in. You broke your vows. You humiliated our sister. This is your fault, Isaac.”
Leo dropped him, and Isaac collapsed to the floor, a weeping, pathetic mess in his ruined tuxedo.
Clover looked at my brothers, a panicked, desperate edge to her voice. “I’ll give the money back. Just let me walk out of here. I’ll transfer it right now.”
Noah looked at her with utter contempt. “Keep the money, Chloe. You’re going to need it for the criminal defense lawyers. Caleb sent your entire file to the FBI ten minutes ago.”
May you like
Clover’s knees buckled.
I walked over to Isaac, looking down at the man who had tried to break my spirit for five long years. “You wanted me to learn my place, Isaac,” I told him softly. “I think I finally have.”
