Chapter 3

Across the floor, Chloe was surrounded by female coworkers consoling her while shooting murder daggers my way.

She played the fragile victim flawlessly, shrinking behind someone whenever my eyes swept across the room.

She was a masterclass actress. Weaponizing her vulnerability, she had rallied the entire office to nail me to the cross.

After work, I dragged my exhausted body home, desperate for a shred of comfort from Claire.

The moment the front door clicked open, I was met with her dead, hostile expression.

"You actually dared to come home?" She sat stiffly on the couch, hugging a cushion tight against her chest.

"Claire, what's wrong?" I stepped forward, reaching out to hold her.

She shoved her phone into my face.

It was an anonymous post on Blind, trending with hundreds of upvotes:

"Exposing the sleazy, married sales lead at our firm who openly harassed the fresh female intern at a client dinner. Disgusting."

The post used transparent pseudonyms and filthy, sensationalist prose to describe "that night."

It claimed I "used alcohol as an excuse to grope a helpless girl," gave her "disgusting, predatory looks," and even lied that I "sent threatening, harassing DMs to her afterward."

The comments were a bloodbath:

"Someone castrate this creep!"

"My heart breaks for the poor girl. I feel even worse for his wife—married to absolute human filth."

"Don't pity the wife, she probably knew and condoned it. Birds of a feather."

Every single comment felt like a serrated knife carving out my insides.

"Claire, none of this is real! Chloe is framing me!" I grabbed her shaking hands.

"Framing you?! A girl who just graduated college, framing a senior manager for no reason whatsoever?!"

Claire’s eyes were bloodshot. She slammed her phone onto the glass table, her voice trembling violently.

"Ethan, look me in the eye. Is this true?!"

"No! Baby, I swear to God, it's a lie!"

"A lie?! Why didn't she accuse anyone else?!" Her tears finally spilled over. "Do you have any idea how it felt when my best friend sent this link to me? My entire world crumbled!"

"I didn't do it!" The sheer helplessness threatened to drown me.

I tried to embrace her, but she shoved me away with all her strength.

She turned, grabbed a manila folder from the counter, and threw it hard against my chest.

Divorce papers. Already printed and signed.

She looked at me, her eyes hollow and completely resolute. "I spent all afternoon thinking. We're done."

She slammed the bedroom door shut, locking it from the inside.

I sat on the edge of the guest bed the entire night.

Outside, the city lights sparkled, but inside me, everything had gone pitch black.

I realized Chloe’s attack was lethal, surgical, and total.

She destroyed my career at work, annihilated my reputation online, and was now torching my marriage.

The woman was terrifyingly calculated.

I couldn't just sit here and bleed out.

Talking was useless. I needed proof. Ironclad, indisputable proof that would shut every single mouth for good.

I forced my racing brain to replay every second of that dinner. The table, the client, the private room... Wait!

The private VIP dining room had security cameras!

I frequented that high-end steakhouse. I knew the general manager, Frank, reasonably well. There had to be a cloud backup of that night's footage.

At the crack of dawn, I dialed Frank’s personal number.

"Frank, it's Ethan Chase. I need a massive favor..."

I gave him a brief rundown. Silence hung on the other end for several heavy seconds.

Frank finally exhaled. "Ethan, buddy, corporate policy strictly forbids handing out private room surveillance."

"But I know your character. I believe you. I'm off-site this afternoon, but I'll make sure the front desk has it ready for you."