Chapter 4
4.
I didn't expect them to move this fast.
A swarm of local TikTokers had blocked the entrance to my apartment building, their cameras pointed right at the door.
Someone threw a garbage bag at the entrance. Someone else splashed red paint.
The same derogatory graffiti was scrawled on the brick wall.
HOMEWRECKER.
I stood across the street, watching the circus. It was absurd.
The woman who was betrayed was being publicly crucified as the mistress.
The real mistress was sleeping soundly in my husband's arms.
I pulled out my phone and texted Dominic.
Who arranged the people outside my door?
He didn't reply.
Fifteen minutes later, a bank wire hit my account.
The memo line had one word.
Settlement.
I stared at the amount and let out a laugh.
Hush money. Again.
He only ever knew how to handle damage with money, as if a high enough dollar amount could buy away my pain.
I didn't touch the funds. I immediately screenshotted the wire receipt and had my lawyer send him a formal notice: This transfer does not constitute acceptance of any settlement terms or forgiveness.
It reminded me of the first time he wired me money. It was the day I found Vanessa's lingerie in our bedroom.
I had come home early from a business trip. When I pushed the bedroom door open, a lace bra was tossed at the foot of the bed.
Dominic walked out of the master bathroom, his hair still wet.
I asked him what was going on.
His expression didn't even shift.
"It's exactly what it looks like."
I broke down. I screamed. I asked him why.
He stayed silent.
Eventually, he wired me a massive sum of money.
"We can get a divorce."
"Why should we?" I had screamed until my throat bled. "This is my home too!"
He looked at me for a long time before saying, "Ever since that incident, Claire, you always assume the worst of me."
The gaslighting was suffocating.
I snapped back to the present, staring at the word Settlement on my screen.
Every payout was circumstantial evidence of him trying to buy my silence.
I forwarded the screenshot directly to Vanessa.
By the next day, the rumors about me had exploded across Instagram Reels.
My name. My face.
They painted me as a woman with a chaotic personal life who actively went after married men.
I couldn't believe Dominic had even shared that specific trauma with Vanessa.
What was I to him?
He took my deepest wound and used it as a bargaining chip to please his new mistress.
I stared at the comments, my fingers turning ice-cold.
Why did the people who ruined everything get to walk away clean?
Why did Dominic and Vanessa get to step out of the wreckage without a scratch, while I was the sacrifice?
My phone buzzed.
Nora.
Claire, the evidence is ready.
Good.
A news alert popped up at the top of my screen.
In three days, Dominic Vance and Vanessa Hayes will host their engagement party at The Langham, New York, Fifth Avenue - Ballroom.
I made a call.
"Get me on the guest list for that event."
Three days later, wearing a floor-length black dress, I walked through the main doors of The Langham's ballroom.
Vanessa was clinging to Dominic's arm. She wore a white trailing gown, smiling as if the whole world owed her a blessing.
I pulled out my phone and started a live stream.
"Hi everyone. I'm Claire Hayes."
I walked toward the stage.
My heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.
Dominic finally saw me. His pupils contracted.
"Today, I'm here to show you all the engagement party of my adopted sister, Vanessa Hayes... and the man I am currently divorcing."