“That bonus you bragged about,” I said. “The one you claimed paid for this house.”
Ryan’s face twitched.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “Ryan?”
I watched him try to decide—deny, deflect, explode. In the end, he chose anger.
“You had no right to contact my employer!”
“I didn’t accuse you,” I said calmly. “I asked a question. And they answered.”
Heather snapped, “What did they say?”
“They said Ryan hasn’t received a bonus in over a year,” I replied. “And they also confirmed something else—because I asked them to send it to me in writing.”
Ryan’s lips parted, but nothing came out.
I continued steadily. “Ryan has been lying about his income. He’s been borrowing against credit lines and using access to my accounts to cover it.”
Frank’s face turned gray. “Ryan…”
Ryan grabbed the envelope again like he could crush the truth back into it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I do,” I said. “Because after I saw the transfers, I pulled your credit report using the authorization you gave me when we bought our last car. Remember signing that?”
His eyes widened—just a fraction, but enough.
Linda’s composure cracked. “Ryan, tell me you didn’t… embarrass us.”