“Lena, it was a mistake,” he pleaded, tone dripping with fake remorse. “Chloe means nothing. It just happened.”
I tilted my head. “You mean you accidentally slept with my best friend?”
He stiffened. “You don’t understand—I was drunk—”
“Then maybe stop drinking,” I cut in. “Oh, and Ethan? Check your company accounts.”
The color drained from his face. “What did you do?”
“I did what any good business partner would do,” I said, handing him a folder of documents—revoked access, frozen funds, pending audits. “You wanted to play games. I’m just keeping score.”
He flipped through the pages, panic rising. “You can’t do this.”
“I already did.”
He slammed the door behind him on his way out, shaking the walls. I sat down, trembling from the rush of adrenaline and heartbreak. Revenge didn’t erase betrayal, but it gave me back control.
Later, Chloe texted, asking to meet. We met at a small diner near the lake. She looked wrecked—mascara smudged, eyes red.
“Lena, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It just happened. Ethan said you two were taking a break—”
I laughed bitterly. “A break? We were buying a house, Chloe.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “He told me you didn’t love him anymore.”