Chapter 4

That night, I stayed in the company's employee housing.

While reviewing the renovation expenses, I realized we'd gone nearly 250,000 dollars over budget.

Claire had told me the extra cost was due to rising material prices. I trusted her, so I always paid everything without question.

But I noticed several material charges for the exact same amount. They came from different suppliers, but the payments all went to Claire's design studio.

I called one of the lumber suppliers to ask about it. After checking their records, the guy said hesitantly, "Mr. Scott… we gave Ms. Dickson a 15% referral commission on this project."

"A commission?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Yes. It's a standard industry arrangement. There's something else, though. You paid us in full, but she also asked us to sponsor some of the materials for her competition entry."

After hanging up, I contacted the other suppliers.

The tile company, lighting supplier, appliance company, and custom cabinet maker had all paid Claire kickbacks.

The brands had even sponsored two furniture orders, yet Claire had still charged me full price for them.

I gathered all the records together. She had claimed that she was designing my home for free, but it had been a business deal from the start.

She had taken my money for the renovation, entered my house in a design competition, used my address for Terry's business, and turned my home into a showcase for their friendship.

The next day, Claire came to my office. She placed the smart lock access form on my desk.

"Take the house off the market," she said. "I'll add your fingerprint."

I looked at her without saying a word.

Thinking I was still holding a grudge, she softened her tone. "I was wrong to lock you out yesterday. But everyone had been drinking. If you came inside, it would've turned into a huge scene. I told you to stay in a hotel to prevent a fight."

She still thought I would have caused a scene if I'd been allowed back into my own home.

"The house stays on the market," I said firmly.

Claire lost her patience. "What about my competition entry?"

So she hadn't come to apologize for locking me out on my birthday or for nearly giving away my dad's keepsakes. She was only worried about her competition.

"Withdraw it."

"Why should I?" she asked.

"Because the house is mine."

Claire clenched her fists.

After a moment, she said, "Look, if you feel left out, I'll ask them to come over less. Or you could add my name to the deed. Once the house is in both our names, you won't feel like I care more about them than you."

I almost laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. I paid for everything, got locked out of my own home, and now I was supposed to put half my property in her name to prove my commitment?

"Claire," I said, sliding the printouts documenting her kickbacks across the desk. "How do you explain these?"

The moment she saw the first page, the color drained from her face.