Chapter 2

"So, you gave my employee benefit away to please her? It took me ten years of youth and hard work to get that house!" I bellowed.

Matthew's face was flushed red. The veins on his neck were bulging. "It's just an empty house. You're making a lot of money annually. We're also staying in a luxury apartment now!

"You're capable of helping them. Why must you force me into doing this? Why do you have to back a mother and her son into a corner?"

He twisted the narrative and put all the blame on me, calling me cruel.

I pointed at the door. "You stole my house, so how is it my fault? Matthew, this is a fraud. It's illegal."

His eyes flashed, but rage filled them in the next instant. "We're a couple. How is it a fraud when I'm just occupying your house?

"You're too worked up right now. I can't communicate with you."

Irritated, he tugged on his hair and grabbed the car key from the entrance.

"I'm spending the night at the dorm. Both of us should calm down." He strode out of the house and slammed the door shut.

Our son, Ethan Lowe, came out of his room holding his toy car. He tugged at my sleeve timidly. "Mommy, why did Daddy leave without eating?"

I squatted and hugged my son tightly.

…

After soothing Ethan to sleep, I sat in the study by myself.

Matthew said that we were a couple, and his words were like a wake-up call to me.

Since he thought he had the right to manage our assets however he liked, I wondered what he had done to our savings.

I opened the drawer and searched for the metal container where I kept all the important documents.

The USB drive containing all our financial information for buying a new house near the school was placed at the bottom of the drawer.

I inserted the USB drive into the computer and typed the password.

When the figures popped up on the screen, I felt my blood run cold in an instant.

I had 380 thousand dollars in that account, but there was only 1,500 dollars left now.

My hands were trembling as I tapped to view the transaction history.

Over the last six months, all the funds had been transferred in a few batches to an account ending in 6789.

The account holder was Rosalie Sullivan.

…

The next afternoon, I applied for leave from my company.

I hailed a cab and went to the subsidized apartment.

Instead of going in through the main door, I borrowed the spare key from the manager of the management office.

The lock clicked open softly.

I saw two pairs of slippers of different sizes at the entrance.

I slowed down and heard laughter coming from the balcony when I walked to the living room.

"Matt, you came out so late last night. Wouldn't Lyn grow suspicious?" Rosalie spoke in such a sweet voice that it made goosebumps appear all over my body.

Matthew's laughter sounded. "Don't worry. She's such a prideful woman. She won't make her dirty laundry public.

"As long as I keep saying that I'm repaying Charles, she has no choice but to accept it."

I heard the rustle of fabric. It sounded like Rosalie was helping him to tidy up his clothes.

"You're smart to have transferred the 380 thousand dollars to me in batches. I've put everything in a fixed deposit. Once things settle down, we'll look for a decent school for Zachary with the money.

"Lyn really is something. She's making a lot of money. There's nothing wrong with her sharing some with us."

I stood behind the wall and bit my lip hard. A wave of nausea washed over me.

It turned out that he hadn't gone to his company dorm the night before.

He had forged my signature and transferred my assets. They had taken advantage of my kindness and made me look like a fool.

Instead of dashing out and kicking up a fuss, I tapped on the recording button. I blocked the camera with my fingers and recorded their conversation.

I saved the clip and uploaded it to the cloud as a backup.

Later, I quietly left this unpleasant place that made me feel sick.

…

At 2:00 pm, I sat at Quinn Smith's law firm.

Instead of wasting time on small talk, I emailed the printed transaction history and that video with only the audio to her work email.

Quinn was an expert in dealing with financial disputes and divorce lawsuits.

She put on her earphones and listened to the conversation. Her face darkened instantly. "Lynette, they take you as their ATM."

Quinn placed the copy of the transaction history on the table and circled the transactions with a red pen.