All Chapters of Did I Steal My Fiancé’s Ex Identity: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Riley's PovAbout why he had not answered her calls? About the way he had smiled at Diane and not at the woman waiting in the spare room? I had a hundred questions ready in my head. All of them were harsh.Lisa should decide if she wants to see him, not me. But she was not awake. She had gone to sleep, and I was her friend. I could not wake her because it was my decision, and I did not want her to be with the guy who hurt her. I had to buy her time. I had to be the barrier.“You can leave a message,” I said, voice low and controlled. “She is asleep. If you want to say something, I can take a message and give it to her in the morning.”He blinked like he had expected me to go have been joking. Then he laughed, an odd, small sound that did not reach his eyes. “You do not get to block me,” he said. “You do not get to decide who comes and goes in her life.”Oh, I did, I thought. I had a right tonight. I had a right to be angry and fierce for my friend. I had been the one who had sat up las

Lisa's POV I woke up feeling not so rested after tossing and turning in bed last night. The room felt unfamiliar for a second, and then I remembered where I was. Riley’s spare room… my old room. The blanket smelled faintly of her laundry detergent. The light in the window was blinding. I sat up and waited for the small noise of her feet outside the room. I didn't hear anything.That was odd. Riley was a noisy early riser.I put on my house slippers and came out of my room and checked the kitchen, then her room…“Riley?” I called out.There was no answer. That was weird. She was not there.Riley was never the first to leave. She liked mornings. She liked to move early and make things right with tea and a list. I went back into the kitchen. The apartment was tidy. A mug sat by the sink. The kettle was cold. There was a small sticky note on the counter with my name on it in Riley’s handwriting.“Didn’t wanna wake you. Had to run to the gallery early. A shipment came in. Coffee is in

Lisa's PovI picked the folder up and set the first page on my desk. I would start with the simple things. Dates. Names. Bank details. The law lets facts speak. I would let the facts speak first. Then I would act.I took out my phone and typed a message to Riley. I kept it short. “Found Carter file. Something's off. Talk later.”I hit send and then stared at the screen for a long time. The firm was a map, and I had just been handed a path through it. The path led toward Diane’s family. The path also led toward answers about my mother and the night that had changed everything.I did not know yet whether this was a trap. I only knew one thing. If it were a trap, I would need to step into it with my eyes open.New DayI was still staying at Riley's place.It was as though nothing had changed in our living arrangements.I sent her a text saying I would stay at the office late. It felt safer to be busy. It felt safer to have a task in front of me that was not my head. The Carter file sat l

Lisa’s POV I was tired. The office lights still burned in my head. The Carter file had been a tangle of names, dates, and shell companies. I had chased the trail until my eyes blurred. I left the firm later than I had planned. I wanted to get home and sleep and not think about anything.The buses had stopped running, so I took a cab. The ride to Riley’s place felt longer than it should have. I opened the window, and the street was wet from the rain earlier. I kept my hands in my coat pockets and tried to slow my breathing. I thought about Andre. I thought about his silence since that day at the cafe. He had not called. He had not texted. He had left me at the table with a heavy heart in my chest and a cup gone cold. I told myself the lack of contact meant something. It meant a choice.At first, I tried not to think about why it hurt that he had been with Diane. I had told myself the sight was not something I was meant to see after all. I had told myself a million small rational

Riley's POV I sat on the floor of my room with one of Lisa’s boxes open in front of me. It was strange to see her things here again. I thought she would never need to move back in, not after everything she had settled into. But here we were, packing and unpacking again. I reached inside the box and pulled out a stack of scarves she always claimed she never wore.“I think that’s the last of the books,” Lisa said. She wiped a strand of hair from her forehead. She looked tired.“Good. My back is complaining,” I said. I smiled at her. She gave me a small smile back. It was a start.I opened the box to make sure nothing was broken. On top were some sweaters. Underneath were a few notebooks. I moved them aside.Lisa stepped out of the room.I had been on the floor for a long time when I found it. We had stacked boxes by the window, and the light fell thin through the blinds. I pulled scarves and odd papers out and set them in piles. Lisa had taken a lot of things with her when she moved ba