Chapter 1 - “Three years engaged. Five years together.”
“And you came here with him?”
“No. He said he had a work dinner.” I gave a small, humorless laugh. “Chloe told me she was meeting someone from her office. I came because my sister convinced me I needed one night out before I spent the next two weekends finalizing wedding details.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“What does Caleb do?”
“He’s a financial consultant.”
One of the guards exchanged a glance with another.
I saw it.
“What?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Dominic.
“You know him.”
“I know of him.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
The calmness in his voice irritated me more than if he had shouted.
I stood.
The man nearest the door moved instinctively, but Dominic raised a hand.
“Let her stand.”
I stared at him.
“Either tell me what’s going on or unlock that door.”
“You walked into a private meeting.”
“By accident.”
“I believe you.”
“Then let me leave.”
Dominic considered me for several seconds.
Then he reached into his pocket, withdrew a key card, and held it between two fingers.
Relief rushed through me.
But before he crossed the room, he glanced at the table.
“Marco.”
A broad-shouldered man near the wall immediately closed the briefcase.
Only then did I notice something else.
The bloodstained cloth beside it wasn’t covering anything sinister.
It was wrapped around the palm of a younger man who looked deeply embarrassed.
He caught me staring.
“Broken glass,” he said.
I blinked.
He lifted the bandaged hand.
“Bottle slipped.”
Dominic gave him a flat look.
“You’re not improving the situation.”
The young man stopped talking.
Despite everything, a weak laugh escaped me.
Dominic looked at me again.
“Harper, there are things about tonight that probably looked worse than they are.”
“And things that are worse than they look?”
His gaze held mine.
“Yes.”
My amusement vanished.
He unlocked the door.
I stepped into the hallway, but before I could move away, he said, “Don’t go back to Caleb yet.”
I turned.
“Why?”
“Because I want to verify something.”
“I don’t know you.”
“That’s precisely why I’m not asking you to trust me.”
It was such an unexpected answer that I hesitated.
Dominic slipped the key card back into his pocket.
“Just don’t confront him tonight.”
“I already saw him kissing my best friend. What exactly do you think I’m going to do, politely ask whether he’s also ruined my credit score?”
Dominic’s expression sharpened.
Something about my sarcastic question had landed too close to something real.
Cold spread through me.
“My credit score?”
“Go home,” he said. “Check your accounts.”
My stomach sank.
“What accounts?”
“All of them.”
Then he closed the door.
For several seconds I stood alone in the quiet hallway.
The music from the main club seemed impossibly far away.
I should have returned to the bar. I should have marched straight toward Caleb, thrown his ring at him, demanded answers from Chloe, and made sure both of them understood exactly what they had destroyed.
Instead, I walked outside.
Chicago air hit my face, cool and damp.
I called my sister.
Mia answered on the second ring.
“Please tell me you’re having fun.”
“I need you.”
Her voice changed immediately.
“Where are you?”
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in Mia’s apartment with a mug of tea cooling untouched between my hands.
She sat opposite me in faded pajama pants, her dark hair tied into a messy knot.
She didn’t interrupt while I told her everything.
Caleb.
Chloe.
The wrong door.
Dominic.
The cash.
And the question about my accounts.
When I finished, Mia stared at me.
“Okay.”
“That’s all you have?”
“No. I have approximately twelve hundred thoughts, but I’m trying to organize them in a way that doesn’t make tonight worse.”
I almost smiled.
She reached for my hand.
“Start with the accounts.”
I opened my banking app.
Checking account.
Normal.
Savings.
Normal.
My personal credit card showed nothing unusual.
I released a breath.
“See? Maybe Dominic was trying to scare me.”
“Wedding account.”
I looked at Mia.
“What?”
“You and Caleb opened a joint account for wedding expenses.”
My fingers went cold.
“I barely use it. Caleb handles vendor payments.”
“Check it.”
I opened the account.
For a moment, the numbers didn’t make sense.
Three months earlier, there had been nearly forty-eight thousand dollars inside.
My parents had contributed fifteen thousand.
Caleb’s mother had given us ten.
The rest represented almost two years of our combined savings.
The balance now read $6,412.
I stared.
Mia leaned closer.
“Harper?”
I couldn’t answer.
Transaction after transaction appeared on the screen.
Transfers.
Some small.
Some enormous.
All moving into an account identified only by a string of numbers.
“I didn’t authorize these.”
Mia’s face lost color.
“How much?”
I began adding.
Twelve thousand.
Eight thousand.
Five.
Another nine.
My pulse pounded harder with each line.
“Over forty thousand.”
Mia stood.
“Call the bank.”
“At midnight?”
“Fraud line.”
My hands were trembling again.
This time, nobody placed a hand over mine to stop them.
Mia sat beside me and dialed.
The conversation lasted nearly forty minutes.
The bank representative was patient.
Too patient.
The transfers had been initiated through our authorized online profile.
Some required security confirmations.
Those confirmations had gone to Caleb’s phone.
Because both names were on the account, recovering the money would not be simple.
When the call ended, I felt hollow.
Mia closed my laptop.
“Stay here tonight.”
“I need clothes.”
“I have clothes.”
“My medication is at home.”
“I’ll drive you.”
I shook my head.
“What if Caleb is there?”
“Then you stay in the car.”
I thought of Dominic.
Don’t confront him tonight.
For once in my life, I listened to advice from a man I’d met beside a suitcase full of cash.
Our apartment was dark when we arrived.
Caleb wasn’t home.
Mia came upstairs with me.
The place looked exactly as it had that morning.
His coffee mug still sat beside the sink.
My bridal magazine lay open on the dining table.
A seating chart was pinned beneath a magnet on the refrigerator.
Our names were written together at the top.
HARPER & CALEB.
I stared at them until the letters blurred.
“Harper.”
“I’m fine.”
Mia didn’t contradict me.
That was one of the reasons I loved her.
I went into the bedroom and pulled an overnight bag from the closet.
Then I noticed something.
The small fireproof document box we kept on the upper shelf had been moved.
Caleb hated clutter. He arranged everything with ridiculous precision.
The box had always been pushed against the left wall.
Now it sat near the middle.
I dragged it down.
Inside were our passports, insurance papers, apartment lease, birth certificates and tax files.
At first, nothing seemed missing.
Then Mia picked up an envelope.
“What’s this?”
I took it.
The return address belonged to a company I didn’t recognize.
Arbor Lane Holdings.
The letter inside was addressed to Caleb.
It thanked him for completing “the restructuring process” and referenced a property on North Kenmore Avenue.
I read the address twice.
“That’s Chloe’s building.”
Mia looked at me.
“You’re sure?”
“I helped her move in.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Why would a financial company be writing to Caleb about my best friend’s apartment building?
Mia searched the company on her phone.
“Almost nothing. Registered office downtown. Property management, investment consulting.”
My phone buzzed.
CALEB.
I stared at his name.
Then the message appeared.
Where are you? We need to talk.
A second followed.
I know you saw us.
Then:
Please don’t assume you understand everything.
I laughed.
Mia looked up.
“What?”
“He says I don’t understand.”
“Technically that’s true.”
“Mia.”
“I’m not defending him. I’m saying we need information.”
Another message arrived.
Chloe wants to explain too.
I turned the phone facedown.
“I never want to hear her voice again.”
Mia rested her elbows on her knees.
“You don’t have to tonight.”
May you like
At two in the morning, unable to sleep, I opened my laptop again.
I searched Arbor Lane Holdings.
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