Chapter 4 - The Mistress Steps Out
By Thursday, the shockwaves of Liam’s sudden firing had hit him like a freight train. Stripped of his income, locked out of our joint accounts, and publicly disgraced at his firm, his fragile world completely collapsed.
That was when the other player in this wretched game decided to make her move.
Her name was Chloe Vance—no relation to my lawyer, though she shared an unfortunate penchant for expensive tastes funded by other people's money. Chloe was a junior marketing executive at a rival firm, and she had spent the last six months believing Liam’s lies that he was a wealthy, unhappily married bachelor whose evil wife was holding him hostage.
I was sitting in a sunlit corner of our favorite local café, sipping an iced vanilla latte while Hailey slept soundly in her carriage beside me, when the bell above the door chimed.
A woman in a designer trench coat, her heels clicking aggressively against the tile floor, scanned the room before her eyes locked onto me. She marched straight toward my table, her face twisted in an ugly sneer.
"Clara Miller?" she demanded, crossing her arms.
I slowly lowered my coffee cup, looked up through my sunglasses, and gave her a slow, evaluating once-over. "And you must be Chloe. Please, sit. You look like you need a drink more than I do."
Chloe blinked, clearly thrown off by my absolute lack of intimidation. She had expected tears, screaming, or a shattered coffee cup. Instead, she found a woman radiating pure, unbothered power.
"You think you're clever, don't you?" Chloe hissed, leaning over the table, lowering her voice so the nearby patrons wouldn't hear. "Ruining Liam’s career, freezing his accounts, humiliating him in front of his family? You're a bitter, pathetic housewife who couldn't keep her own husband satisfied!"
I let out a soft, amused chuckle, leaning back in my chair.
"Chloe, sweetheart," I said, my tone dripping with patronizing pity. "Do you honestly believe you've won a prize? Liam lied to me for months, sure. But do you know what else he told me?"
Chloe’s sneer faltered slightly. "What are you talking about?"
"He told me he couldn't wait to divorce me so he could marry you," I smiled sweetly. "And now? He has no job, no savings, no car, a mountain of legal debt, and an impending child-support lawsuit that will garnish whatever meager salary he manages to scrape together at his next minimum-wage job. He's entirely yours, Chloe. Enjoy your prize."
The color drained entirely from Chloe’s face. The predatory confidence she had walked in with evaporated in a single second. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
May you like
"Oh, and by the way," I added, picking up my coffee cup again, "make sure he signs a lease under your name. Because his credit score is currently hovering somewhere around room temperature. Have a wonderful day."
Without another word, Chloe turned on her heel and practically fled the café, the illusion of her grand romance shattering into a million pieces.
