Chapter 3

I had nowhere to go.

I wandered the streets of Manhattan all night until the sun began to rise.

My phone was completely dead.

I found a public restroom, splashed cold water on my face, and stared at the gaunt, hollow-eyed woman in the mirror.

For three years, I had sacrificed my pride, my health, and my life for Wyatt.

And it had all been a lie.

I couldn't just let this go.

I walked to the diner where I used to work and borrowed a charger from my former boss.

The moment my phone buzzed back to life, dozens of missed calls and text messages flooded the screen.

They were all from Wyatt. None of them were apologies. They were all threats.

“Roxy, take the money and keep your mouth shut.”

“If you dare say a word to Chloe, I will make sure you never get a job in this city again.”

“You’re just a cheap girl who sells her blood. You think you can fight me?”

Reading his venomous words, a strange, icy calm washed over me.

I dialed a number.

"Hey, Jax. It's Roxy."

Jax was a street-smart guy I’d met during my late-night shifts. He knew everything about everyone in the underbelly of New York.

"Hey, Roxy. What's up?"

"I need you to dig up some dirt on someone. Wyatt Thorne."

"I want his bank statements, call logs, and business transactions for the past three months. I'll pay whatever it takes."

"Consider it done, sweetheart."

After hanging up, I used the last few dollars in my pocket to rent a computer at an internet cafe.

I began searching for any news regarding Wyatt and Chloe Monroe.

The news of the Monroe heiress’s engagement had already taken New York by storm.

In the articles, Wyatt was painted as a brilliant, self-made young entrepreneur, a rising star in the investment world.

I scoffed. A rising star? He was just a parasite feeding on women to climb the social ladder.

Two days later, Jax sent me a file.

As I scrolled through the documents, the blood drained from my face.

Wyatt hadn't just conned me. He had ruined his mentor, Arthur.

Arthur was a legendary figure in the financial world. He had taken Wyatt under his wing, mentored him, and even invested his own retirement savings into Wyatt's startup.

But Wyatt had cooked the books, embezzled all of Arthur's money, and framed the old man for the fraud.

Arthur had suffered a massive stroke from the shock and was now lying in the ICU, in a vegetative state.

And those "loan sharks" who had broken Wyatt's leg? They weren't actors.

They were Arthur’s former employees—people who had lost their life savings because of Wyatt's greed.

Desperate, they had confronted Wyatt.

To get them off his back, Wyatt had intentionally provoked them, letting them injure his leg slightly. The cast was fake, but he used the incident to police-report them, putting them behind bars.

He had used the money I earned with my blood to pay off the victims' families and buy their silence.

That absolute bastard.

My hands shook violently as I bit my lip, tasting copper.

I wasn't just a fooled girlfriend. I had unwittingly become an accomplice to a monster.

I took the files and went straight to the hospital.

Outside Arthur’s ICU room sat an elderly, white-haired woman.

It was Beatrice, Arthur’s wife.

She looked as though she had aged ten years overnight, staring blankly at the heart monitor inside.

I walked over and knelt directly in front of her.

"Beatrice... I am so, so sorry..."

I pressed my forehead against the cold tile floor, tears streaming down my face.

Beatrice gasped. Recognizing me, she began to tremble, stood up, and slapped me hard across the face.

"Get out! How dare you show your face here! You’re with that monster, Wyatt!"

"You destroyed Arthur! You destroyed our family!"

I didn't move. I let her strike me.

"Beatrice, I didn't know... I swear to God I didn't know he was stealing from Arthur..." I sobbed, pouring out the entire truth.

I told her about the clinical trials, the plasma donations, how I was conned, and how I finally discovered his secret.

Beatrice collapsed back into her chair, covering her face as she wept bitterly.

"Oh, Arthur... how could you trust such a snake..."

I wiped my tears, pulled a checkbook from my bag, and handed her a cashier's check for $10,000. It was all the money I could max out from my credit cards over the last forty-eight hours.

"Beatrice, take this for Arthur’s medical bills."

"I swear to you, I will make Wyatt pay. I will make him return every single cent he stole from you, with interest."

Leaving the hospital, I stood on the busy New York street, my eyes cold as ice.

Wyatt, you think marrying into the Monroe family will protect you?

I am going to strip you of everything. I will make your life a living hell.