Chapter 4
Everything was calm for the next two weeks.
Adam was barely home—coming in late every night, and sometimes not coming back at all.
I kept myself busy too, running things at Visionary Holdings during the day and poring over Adam's company's financials at night.
Sophie messaged me: [Claire, Emily's been dropping all kinds of hints on social media lately.]
I asked: [What kind of stuff?]
Sophie replied: [Like, she showed off a ring with the caption, 'Waiting for you to make it official.' And she took a selfie in Adam's car, tagging the location as right outside your building.]
I texted: [She's trying to force his hand.]
Sophie asked: [Seems like it. Aren't you mad?]
I replied: [I'm actually hoping she makes a scene.]
Sophie just replied with a bunch of question marks.
I texted: [The more she acts up, the more Adam will bend over backwards to calm her down. And that takes cash. But he's already poured all his money into the project, so what's he supposed to use to shut her up? He'll have to borrow even more.]
Sophie replied: [Damn, that's genius.]
I texted: [One more thing—dig up everything you can on Emily. Family, education, work history, the whole nine yards. The more details, the better.]
Three days later, Sophie sent me the file.
Emily Lane, twenty-eight, from a small town, with an associate's degree. After graduating, she worked admin jobs at a few companies before joining Adam's company as his secretary three years ago.
She doesn't have any assets to her name.
Her parents are farmers in their hometown.
Her younger brother got into a no-name college last year, and Adam's been paying his tuition.
"It's obvious what she's after," Sophie said.
"What did Adam promise her?" I asked.
"I got it from her bestie—Adam told her that once the company goes public, he'll divorce you and make her his official wife," Sophie replied.
I couldn't help but laugh.
The company goes public? With the way things are going, he'll be lucky if he doesn't go bankrupt.
Things started to unravel way faster than I expected.
Monday morning, Adam looked like he'd seen a ghost as he headed out the door.
"What's wrong?" I asked, putting on my best concerned face.
"Nothing, just work stuff," he replied.
John Law messaged me that afternoon.
"Something's gone wrong. Adam took a shipment from a supplier last month, but the quality was crap. Now the client wants a refund—two million dollars," John said.
"Does he even have that kind of cash on hand?" I asked.
"Not a chance. He already poured every last dollar he could scrape together into the Northshore project. He's only got a little over six hundred thousand dollars left in the bank," John replied.
"So what's his move?" I asked.
"He blew up at the office today, barking at finance to pull a miracle. Looks like he's about to go begging for another loan," John said.
I set my phone down.
Here we go.
Sure enough, Adam came home that night, acting all sweet and gentle.
"Honey, I need to talk to you about something," he said.
He almost never called me that.
"What is it?" I asked.
"The company's cash flow is a little tight right now. Didn't your dad leave you some money? Can you lend it to me for a while? Just six months, I'll pay you back," Adam said.
My dad really did leave me some money.
But it wasn't just a couple hundred thousand dollars like Adam thinks.
It was four million dollars.
And with everything I've earned these past years, we're talking a whole new number now.
"How much do you need?" I asked.
"1.5 million dollars," he said.
I paused for a moment.
"Let me think about it," I said.
"No rush, take your time," Adam said, holding my hand. "I won't let you get shortchanged. Once the deal comes through—"
"I said I'll think about it," I cut him off, my tone cool.
He let go of my hand, giving an awkward smile.
"Alright, take your time," he said.
I walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind me.
1.5 million dollars.
The first thing out of his mouth was 1.5 million dollars.
He still hasn't answered for the nineteen million dollars in forged guarantees, and now he's trying to get even more out of me.
Adam, you really think I'm just your personal cash cow?
The next day, I gave him three hundred thousand dollars.
Not 1.5 million—just three hundred thousand.
"That's it?" His face darkened for a moment.
"Most of what my dad left me is locked up in investments, so I can't touch it. This three hundred thousand dollars is just what I've managed to save up these past few years," I said.
He managed a weak smile.
"This'll help for now, thanks," Adam said, sounding like he was just going through the motions.
He grabbed the cash and walked out.
He didn't even stay for dinner.
When Sophie found out, she gave me an earful.
"Why'd you do that? You just threw three hundred thousand dollars his way for nothing," she said.
"I'm playing the long game," I replied.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I give him three hundred thousand dollars, he'll think I've got more where that came from. Next time he's in deeper trouble, he'll come back to me for more. The more he comes to me, the more he'll rely on me. And when he comes crawling back for the last time—" I said.
"So you're just going to cut him off, huh?" Sophie said.
"It's not about cutting him off. I want him to realize the woman he's been begging all this time is the same wife he forged my name for and lied to about our marriage for three years," I replied.
Sophie blew out a breath.
"Alright, you play your game. I'll sit back and enjoy the drama," she said.
Things just kept getting worse over the next week.
John Law's messages were blowing up my phone.
"We couldn't reach an agreement on the refund with the client—they're planning to sue," he said.
"Michael wants to pull out his investment," she said.
"Emily spent three hundred thousand dollars on a car, charged to Adam's company account."
The last one made me laugh.
Can you believe it? Even now, Emily's still spending money.
She's the disaster he can't escape.