Chapter 7 - The Ex-Husband's Secret
I left Marcus’s office with a signed retainer agreement in my bag,
and a meticulously crafted battle plan in my head.
The legal gears were turning,
moving silently and relentlessly in the background,
but I was not content to simply wait for the lawyers to do their jobs.
I needed to hit Stephanie where it hurt,
to tear down the pristine,
perfect life she presented to the world.
I pulled out my phone,
scrolling past the blocked numbers of my husband and my former best friend,
until I found the contact I was looking for.
David.
Stephanie’s ex-husband.
Two years ago,
Stephanie had shown up at my door sobbing,
claiming David had left her for another woman,
destroying their marriage without a second thought.
I had held her,
comforted her,
and hated David on her behalf for twenty-four months.
But now,
the blindfold had been violently ripped from my eyes,
and I realized that every word out of Stephanie's mouth was likely a carefully constructed lie.
I pressed the call button,
bringing the phone to my ear,
listening to the steady ringing sound.
He answered on the fourth ring.
"Brooke?"
David asked,
his voice laced with understandable confusion.
"David,"
I said,
taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.
"I know it has been two years,
and I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from,
but I need to talk to you about Stephanie."
There was a long,
heavy pause on the other end of the line,
followed by a bitter,
exhausted sigh.
"What did she do?"
he asked bluntly.
"She slept with my husband,"
I answered,
the words still tasting like poison on my tongue,
"and they stole my life savings to start a business together."
David let out a sharp,
humorless laugh that sent a chill down my spine.
"Meet me at the diner on 4th Street in thirty minutes,"
he instructed,
"I think there are a lot of things you and I need to clear up."
Half an hour later,
I was sitting in a red vinyl booth at the back of a dimly lit diner,
nursing a cup of terrible black coffee,
when David slid into the seat across from me.
He looked older than I remembered,
his hair peppered with gray,
his eyes carrying the heavy bags of a man who had been through absolute hell.
"So,"
David began,
stirring sugar into his cup with a battered metal spoon,
"she finally did to you what she did to me."
I frowned,
leaning forward across the sticky laminate table.
"What do you mean?"
I asked.
"She told me you cheated on her,
that you left her for another woman out of nowhere."
David shook his head,
a look of pure disgust twisting his features.
"I never cheated on Stephanie,"
he stated firmly,
his eyes locking onto mine with undeniable honesty.
"I left her because I caught her embezzling money from my family’s construction business.
She was creating fake vendor invoices,
funneling tens of thousands of dollars into a private offshore account,
and when I confronted her,
she threatened to falsely accuse me of domestic abuse if I went to the police."
My jaw dropped,
the terrible truth washing over me like a bucket of ice water.
"She stole from you too?"
I whispered,
realizing the depths of my former friend's sociopathy.
"She is a parasite, Brooke,"
David said grimly,
taking a sip of his coffee.
"She finds people who trust her,
she drains their resources,
and then she plays the victim when the bridge finally burns.
I spent the last two years legally gagged by a brutal divorce settlement,
just to keep her from destroying my family's reputation with her lies."
I felt a wave of nausea,
remembering the nights I had let her sleep on my couch,
the tears I had wiped from her face,
the absolute loyalty I had given to a monster.
"She and Calvin set up an LLC,"
I explained,
my voice trembling slightly with fresh anger.
"CS Holdings.
They are trying to buy a boutique hotel on 5th Avenue."
David’s eyes widened,
and then a slow,
predatory grin spread across his face.
"The property on 5th?"
he asked,
leaning in closer.
"The old brick building with the copper roof?"
"Yes,"
I nodded,
surprised by his specific knowledge.
"How did you know?"
"Because my brother’s firm is the primary architectural contractor for that building's renovation,"
David revealed,
the puzzle pieces suddenly locking together with a satisfying click.
"Stephanie reached out to him three months ago,
using a fake company name to get the blueprints and structural assessments."
I stared at him,
realizing the incredible weapon he had just handed me.
"David,"
I asked carefully,
"how would your brother feel if he found out that the investors for this project were funding it with stolen money,
and were currently under investigation for financial fraud?"
David’s grin widened into something truly menacing.
"He would be obligated to inform the city zoning board,
the commercial seller,
and every single subcontractor on the project,"
David said smoothly,
"which would instantly blacklist CS Holdings from ever doing business in this city again."
"Let's make a phone call,"
May you like
I said,
sliding my phone across the table.
