I was only taking what was rightfully mine: the designer clothes, shoes, jewelry, and those "gifts" Ethan had so generously given Mia with my money.
I walked in to find Mia decked out in jade, parading around in my evening gown.
As the movers efficiently boxed things up, I threw her my day-old clothes and demanded she strip off all the jewelry and the haute couture dress.
Mia freaked. She tried calling Ethan, and when he didn't pick up, she threatened to call the cops on me for breaking in.
I flashed the property deed, and she shut up real quick.
"Even if the place is yours, this stuff is from my brother! You're stealing from him!" she accused, trying to flip the script.
I had to hand it to her—smart, but in all the wrong ways.
"You think I need a man to bankroll me like you do? I've got two properties in my name."
Mia was speechless, and right on cue, Ethan burst in.
She ran to him, all teary-eyed.
With the dress slipping off her shoulder, she looked every bit the damsel in distress.
Ethan froze for a second, then wrapped his arms around her protectively.
He shot me a look that could kill, but still played the gentleman, draping his jacket over Mia's shoulders.