About 10 minutes later, Ethan and Kloe emerged a freshly printed marriage license in their hands. Kloe was grinning from ear to ear, holding up her phone to take selfies with Ethan. She looked desperate to announce their union to the world. Ethan, looking smug, wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered something in her ear, making her burst into laughter.

They walked towards me, heading for their car. I lowered my head, pretending not to see them, but Khloe’s eyes were sharp. She immediately tugged on Ethan’s arm and said in a voice just loud enough for me to hear Ethan look over there. “Isn’t that Sarah?” Ethan followed her gaze and saw me. The smile on his face froze. A flicker of awkwardness crossed his face, quickly replaced by a subtle look of superiority.

He held Khloe tighter and walked over. “Sarah,” he said, figning surprise. What are you doing here? I looked up, forcing a desolate expression. I glanced at their intertwined hands and the marriage license Khloe was flaunting and said in a low voice I was just passing by. Congratulations. Khloe immediately thrust the license closer to my face as if afraid I’d miss it. Thanks, Sarah.

Look, it’s brand new. She smiled brightly. Ethan said after we got this, we’d go have a celebration dinner and then go look at our new place. We already have an appointment with the agent at the Sovereign Tower. Ethan cleared his throat lightly as if Khloe was talking too much, but the smuggness in his eyes was undeniable.

He looked at me and said as if bestowing a great favor. Sarah, have you eaten? You can join us if you want. Before I could answer, Khloe secretly pinched his side, clearly signaling her disapproval. Just as I was about to decline, I saw Mr. Peterson approaching from a distance, file folder in hand.

He walked directly to me, bowed his head slightly, and said respectfully, “Miss Collins, my apologies for the delay. This is the final purchase agreement for the penthouse at the sovereign tower. I need your confirmation signature here. The preliminary approval for the foundation’s establishment is also ready for your review.

” His voice wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear. The Sovereign Tower penthouse purchase agreement. Foundation. The words landed like bombs in front of Ethan and Khloe. Ethan’s smug expression instantly curdled. His eyes went wide as he stared at me, then at Mr. Peterson in utter disbelief. Khloe’s smile was frozen on her face.

She forgot to even lower the hand holding the marriage license. Her eyes were glued to the file folder in Mr. Peterson’s hands, as if she could burn a hole through it to see what was inside. I took the pen Mr. Peterson offered. I didn’t even look at the contents of the agreement. I trusted him to have handled it perfectly. I signed my name in the designated spot.

Handing the documents back, I said calmly, “Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Peterson.” He took the folder and bowed his head again. “My pleasure, Miss Collins. I will handle the remaining procedures. You have nothing to worry about.” He gave me another slight nod, then turned and walked away, completely ignoring Ethan and Khloe as if they were air. The silence was deafening.

Ethan stood with his mouth a gape, finally finding his voice after a long moment. He stammered, pointing at me. Sarah, what? What did you just sign? What sovereign tower? What foundation? Where where did you get the money to buy a house? Kloe also snapped out of her stuper, her voice shrill. That’s right. How could you buy a place at the Sovereign Tower? A penthouse, no less.

That place costs over $20 million. Who are you trying to fool? Did you hire an actor to trick us? I looked at their shocked, suspicious, and anxious faces and felt a wave of pure satisfaction. I dropped my desolate expression and looked at them calmly, a hint of mockery in my eyes.

An actor who, my lawyer, I paused, then turned my gaze to Ethan, where I get my money is no longer any of your business, is it Ethan. We got divorced yesterday. I emphasized the last two words. Then, without giving their thunderruck expressions, another glance, I turned and walked away. After a few steps, I heard Khloe’s furious voice behind me.

Ethan, what does she mean? Where did she get that kind of money? Did you secretly give it to her? Ethan’s voice was panicked and angry. What money do I have to give her? I’m drowning in debt and my business is failing. How should I know what she’s up to? Guess. Suspect. Agonize over it. This is only the beginning. I walked away at a steady pace, not looking back.

The sound of their argument faded behind me, like leaves scattering in the wind. Khloe’s voice was sharp and frantic. How could she buy a place at the Sovereign Tower? That lawyer. He looked slick. But what if he’s a con artist? What if Sarah’s being scammed? Ethan’s voice was a mix of frustration and disbelief.

What scam? I think I’ve seen that lawyer before. I think he’s from Sterling and Chase. That’s one of the biggest law firms in the city. How could Sarah afford a lawyer like that, let alone a penthouse? Where did the money come from? Did you give her a secret payoff when you divorced Ethan? Tell me the truth.

Khloe’s voice was tinged with tears and suspicion. Are you crazy? Why would I give her money? I have debts to pay and I need capital for my business. Ethan’s voice suddenly cut off as if he realized he’d said too much. He quickly lowered his voice. Let’s not fight here. Get in the car. I heard a car door slam and an engine start.

I turned a corner and stopped, leaning against a wall and letting out a long breath. That scene had been even more satisfying than I had imagined. The look of utter shock on Ethan’s face was priceless, just as I was savoring the moment my phone buzzed. It was an encrypted message from Mr. Peterson.

Miss Collins, it appears the two individuals are very interested in you. Shall I take any measures? I smiled and typed back. No, let them guess. Let them investigate. Just make sure they can’t find out any real information. Understood, he replied. As expected, the next few days were quiet. Or rather, they were anything but.

First, Jessica, my ex-sister-in-law, sent me a text, her tone nauseatingly friendly. Hey, Sarah. How are you? Feeling any better? I didn’t reply. A little later, another message. I know my mom and I were a little harsh the other day, but it was for your own good. We were just worried you’d get hurt. Don’t hold it against us, okay? Still no reply.

She couldn’t stand it and called. I let it ring until it went to voicemail. When she called back, I silenced my phone. The next day, it was my ex-mother-in-law’s turn. She didn’t call. She showed up at my old office. I had already quit weeks ago, not wanting Ethan’s debt drama to affect my workplace.

The Davis family didn’t know this. She waited in the lobby for a while, and when I didn’t appear, she reluctantly called my old number. “Sarah, I’m outside your office. I brought you some soup. Come down and get it.” I answered calmly. “Mrs. Davis, I quit my job.” “I’m not there,” she was flustered. “You quit when? Why?” A few weeks ago, I just didn’t feel like working anymore.

Her voice became urgent. Then how are you going to live? Rent, bills, food. It all costs money. Did Did you find another job? What is it? Where? How’s the pay? She fired off questions like a prosecutor, I answered blandly. I haven’t found anything yet. I’m just taking a break. Then I hung up. I knew the more vague I was, the more they would speculate and the more desperately they would try to uncover my secret.

Ethan wasn’t idle either. He didn’t dare contact me directly, so he tried to get information through a mutual acquaintance from his old job, a nice guy named Mark. Mark called and after some heming and hawing got to the point. Sarah, how have you been? I heard you quit your job. Yeah, I was stressed. Needed a break.

Uh, so any plans for the future? Ethan asked me to call. he said. If you’re having financial trouble, he’d be willing to help out a bit for old times sake. I almost laughed. Help me. That was rich. I said firmly. I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine. I have some savings, so I’ll be okay for a while. Oh, that’s good. That’s good.

And I heard a rumor. Is it true you bought a house? A nice one. There it is. My voice turned surprised. A house? Who told you that? What money do I have to buy a house? Mark, you must have heard wrong. Mark was taken aback by my firm denial. Oh, well, Ethan said he saw you signing some real estate papers near the county clerk’s office. He must have seen wrong.

I was there for something else and just happened to run into them getting their marriage license. Buying a house? That’s ridiculous. Completely confused, Mark finally gave up. Oh, okay. He must have been mistaken then. After hanging up, I knew Ethan and his family must be as frantic as ants on a hot plate.

The less they could find out, the more they would be convinced I was hiding some incredible secret. After Mark’s call, my old phone was quiet for a few days. The Davis family was undoubtedly pulling every string they had to figure out the source of my supposed newfound wealth. This gave me some peace.

I spent my days watching movies and planning my next moves. Mr. Peterson occasionally sent updates. the foundation was established and the deed and keys to the sovereign tower would be ready soon. Each message was a welcome reassurance. That afternoon, I was lounging on the sofa, eating a crisp, sweet apple, one I had bought myself a world away from the rotten ones my ex-mother-in-law had brought. The doorbell rang. I frowned.

Who could it be? Surely not her again. I ambled to the door and peered through the peepphole. Unbelievable. It was Mrs. Davis and Jessica. But today’s atmosphere was completely different. Mrs. Davis’s face was wathed in a massive smile. In her hands was not a bag of sad, bruised fruit, but a fancy gift basket filled with imported kiwis and cherries.

Jessica stood beside her, beaming and holding a large bouquet of flowers. What on earth? I hesitated, then opened the door. Mrs. Davis’s overly affectionate voice gushed out. Oh, Sarah, you’re home. I was so worried you might be out. Jessica rushed forward, extending the flowers. These are for you, Sarah. I hope you like them.

I didn’t take the bouquet, instead blocking the doorway. My face was a blank slate. What is it? Mrs. Davis, ignoring my coldness, tried to push her way in. Oh, nothing. Nothing. We were just in the neighborhood and wanted to see you. I worry about you living all alone. Her eyes scanned the apartment like a search light, looking for clues. Jessica followed, forcing the bouquet into my arms.

She walked into the living room as if she owned the place and said dramatically, “Wow, Sarah, the place looks so clean. It seems so much brighter than last time.” I looked at the flowers in my hands and then at the two of them snooping around my apartment. Their intentions were painfully obvious. When they couldn’t dig up information, they switched tactics to feigned friendliness and direct reconnaissance.

I casually placed the bouquet on the shoe rack and closed the door, not inviting them to sit. Mrs. Davis put the fruit basket on the table and grabbed my hand, her face a mask of concern. Sarah, look at you. You’ve gotten so thin. Are you eating properly? It’s not easy living alone. Why don’t you just move back in with us? I’ll cook for you. I pulled my hand away.

I’m fine, Mrs. Davis. I’m doing well on my own. Her smile faltered for a second before she plastered it back on. Oh, don’t be so distant. By the way, Sarah, since you quit your job, what are your plans? If you don’t have anything lined up, I could ask Jessica’s father to find a comfortable position for you at his company.

The work is easy and it’s stable. Jessica chimed in. That’s right, Sarah. My dad’s a manager. He can easily get you a spot. I looked at them and suddenly asked, “Does Ethan know you’re here?” Their expressions instantly turned awkward. Mrs. Davis laughed nervously. “Oh, him. He’s busy with his own things.

Why would we tell him we’re visiting you, Sarah? I’m genuinely worried about you. Are you I cut her off. Or did you hear a rumor? Her eyes flickered. A rumor? What rumor? No, nothing. It’s just that Ethan mentioned he saw you talking to some lawyer. Something about buying a house. Is that true? You’re not getting scammed, are you? There are so many con artists these days. Finally, the real question.

I sneered inwardly, but put on a look of alarm and defensiveness. A lawyer. buying a house Ethan must have seen wrong. What money do I have for that? I was just talking to an acquaintance. The more I denied it, the more suspicion and curiosity gleamed in their eyes. Jessica couldn’t hold back. Come on, Sarah.

Don’t hide it from us. If something good happened, you should tell us. Well be happy for you. Did you win the lottery or something? Mrs. Davis shot her a look, but then turned to me with pleading eyes. The way they were trying to pry into my life was ridiculous. I shook my head, my voice flat. I didn’t win the lottery.

You’re both jumping to conclusions. I’m just a normal divorced woman. No money, no job. I’m worried about how I’m going to get by. My words were halftruth, half lie, delivered with a touch of self-pity and distance. Mrs. Davis and Jessica exchanged a look. They clearly didn’t believe me, but they were frustrated that they couldn’t get anything more out of me.

After a few more minutes of inane small talk, they gave up. As she was leaving, Mrs. Davis offered some empty platitudes about taking care of myself and staying in touch and then reluctantly left with Jessica. The door closed and the world was quiet again. I looked at the expensive fruit basket on the table and the awkward bouquet on the shoe rack.

A cold mocking smile spread across my face. Changing your tune already? Are you trying to butter me up? The Sarah you knew is gone. And I don’t want anything you’ve touched. I didn’t touch the fruit basket or the flowers. When the cleaning lady came, I told her to take them. The sight of them disgusted me.

Their pathetic offerings were less than a speck of dust compared to my new life. My mind was now focused on a single thought. How to deliver a truly spectacular surprise to Ethan. He’d bragged about a big project. Used it to lure Kloe. Fine. I would start with that big project. I contacted Mr. Peterson using our encrypted channel. Mr. Peterson, can you investigate my ex-husband Ethan Davis? I want to know everything about the project.

He’s working on his financial situation. The more detailed the better. His reply was swift. It’s possible. Our corporate investigation team can gather information through public records and other legal channels. It should take one to two days. Good. As soon as possible, I added. And more importantly, find out if there’s a way to ensure his project does not succeed.

There was a pause on his end. Miss Collins, direct illegal interference is not advisable. However, if the project itself has weaknesses, such as a tight cash flow pressure from competitors or a key partner changing their mind, it is possible to influence the outcome using market principles. I understand. Find his weaknesses, Bill.

All expenses to my account. Understood. The two days I waited for the report were surprisingly calm. I knew Ethan’s good times were coming to an end. Sure enough, 2 days later, a detailed report arrived. According to the report, Ethan was indeed working on a smart home project. Despite the grand packaging, the technology was immature and the market prospects were dim.

He had poured all his meager savings into it and even taken out personal loans from some shady lenders. This included the $500 he had mentioned during our divorce drama, Money, he had actually borrowed from a lone shark acquaintance to maintain his lavish lifestyle and impress Kloe. Currently, the project was stalled. The product wasn’t ready.

Investment funds had dried up, and creditors were already demanding repayment. He was desperately scrambling to find new investors to plug the holes. At the end of the report was a list of small-time investment firms that had shown some interest or were currently in talks with him. I smiled. The heavens are on my side.

I immediately instructed Mr. Peterson, “These firms on the list, I want them all to back out. either have them pull their offers or present such harsh terms that Ethan is forced to walk away. That can be done. We can use intermediaries to suggest the project carries enormous risk or present them with a more attractive investment opportunity.

It will incur some costs but they will be minimal. Use whatever it takes. Then another idea struck me. And can we create a strong competitor for him? You mean establish a new company in a similar field to poach his key technical staff or spread rumors that a major player is entering the market, squeezing his space for survival? In short, make him feel completely cornered.

A thrill went through me as I considered the possibility. Perfectly feasible, Mr. Peterson replied. We can use a shell company under the foundation to expedite the process. Talent, recruitment, and information dissemination can all be arranged. Do it immediately, I said. I paused, then added. Remember, every move must look like a normal business transaction.

There should be no connection to me. Rest assured, our professional team will handle it with absolute discretion. Over the next few days, I heard snippets of news about Ethan through old friends. Sarah, did you hear about Ethan? He had an investment deal all but signed and it fell through at the last minute. His project is a complete disaster.

I heard all his key employees quit. Lone sharks have been showing up at his office demanding money. It was a huge scene. With every piece of news, I felt a sense of relief. Mr. Peterson’s plan was working. Ethan was probably running around like a headless chicken, completely baffled as to why his promising project had suddenly hit a wall on all fronts.

He would blame it on bad luck or his own incompetence. He would never know that the one pushing him off the cliff was the ex-wife he had cast aside for a measly $500 and a new woman. Just wait. The biggest surprise is yet to come. While Ethan was in a downward spiral, my life was blossoming. Mr. Peterson was ruthlessly efficient.

A new company called Future Tech was incorporated. Its business focus was identical to Ethan’s dying project. As news of this new well-funded player quietly spread, the few remaining interested investors pulled out, and Ethan’s small company teetered on the brink of collapse, Khloe, busy with her shopping and social life, was likely still oblivious.

She was probably still lost in her sweet dream of living in a penthouse and being a lady of leisure. It was time to give her a little surprise. How to deliver it? Telling her directly would be no fun. She had to discover it herself for maximum impact. An idea came to me. I remembered Ethan’s old personal email account. The password was his birthday.

He was too lazy to ever change it. I tried logging in. Success. The inbox was full of spam, but after some digging, I found a few emails between him and his Lone Shark friend. In them, Ethan was begging for a few more days promising an investment was about to come through. The friend’s replies were harsh, demanding repayment.

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