Chapter 2

The sound of the pen scratching against paper echoed through my office. My head was pounding, but I forced myself to focus. One signature after another—contracts, documents, approvals. Work had become my escape lately. Numbers and letters didn’t lie. People did.

Just as I was about to sign the last page, a soft knock came from the door.

“Come in,” I said without looking up.

John, my father’s old butler, stepped inside, his usual calm face slightly troubled. “Miss Caroline,” he said gently, “there’s something you might want to see.”

I looked up, arching a brow. “What is it?”

He handed me a folder. “The accounting department forwarded the latest credit card transactions from Mr. Xander. There’s been… an unusual amount of spending. Shall we continue processing them?”

I frowned and opened the folder. My eyes scanned the list—jewelry, designer bags, luxury resort, cruise.

One after another. All recent. All extravagant.

My throat went dry. “These… these are from this month?”

“Yes, Miss,” John said quietly. “All charged under your account. The secondary card he uses is linked to yours.”

For a moment, the room spun. I set the papers down carefully, trying to keep my composure. “I see.”

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my temples.

Five years. Five long, humiliating years.

I’d been so blind—so foolish—to believe Xander was ever the man I thought he was. While I worked to maintain the business my late father left me, Xander spent my money living a life of luxury, pretending to be a successful businessman.

When his father gave him a small company to manage, I thought it would finally give him purpose. But no. He gambled, mismanaged, lied. Every time the company lost money, he came home with the same line—“Investors pulled out, love. I just need a little help to keep things going.”

And I gave it. Every time.

He told me he wanted to make me proud. But what he really did was use every dollars I had left to impress someone else.

Maureen.

I remembered how she’d always bragged about having a mysterious boyfriend. “He’s generous,” she used to say, flashing her new purses and perfume. I used to laugh with her, even envy her sometimes. Never once did I imagine that my money had paid for every single thing she flaunted.

How pathetic I’d been.

I snapped back to the present and looked at John. “No,” I said firmly. “Don’t let those transactions proceed. Freeze every account he has access to—credit, debit, all of them.”

John nodded. “Understood, ma’am.”

“And John,” I added, my voice lower now, steadier, “from now on, any financial request that comes from him—deny it. No exceptions.”

“Yes, Miss Caroline.”

After he left, I sat there in silence, staring at the frozen screen of my laptop. The weight of it all pressed against my chest. I’d built my life on loyalty and trust, and now both felt like cruel jokes.

A few minutes later, my phone began to ring. Xander.

I stared at it for a while. The name flashing across the screen used to make me smile. Now it made my stomach twist.

I let it ring. Once. Twice. Then I pressed decline and turned the phone off.

Enough. I wasn’t going to let him manipulate me again—not with his words, not with his fake apologies.

By the time I arrived home that evening, the air was heavy. The lights were on, and the faint sound of someone pacing echoed from the living room.

And there he was. Xander stood by the couch, his phone in one hand and a half-empty glass of whiskey in the other. His face twisted the second he saw me.

“Did you freeze my accounts?” he demanded.

I dropped my bag on the table. “Yes.”

His voice rose. “Why the hell would you do that? You know I need that money for work!”

I crossed my arms, calm but cold. “Work? Is that what you call buying necklaces, bags, and clothes worth hundreds of thousands?”

He blinked, startled.

I tossed the printed statement at him. The papers scattered across the floor. “Look at them, Xander! Do you even remember what honesty feels like?”

He stared at the list, color draining from his face. “Caroline… I can explain.”

“Then explain,” I said sharply. “Are these for your mistress?”

His jaw tightened. “Of course not! Why would I—”

“Don’t lie!” I snapped. “Why would you even buy these things?”

For a split second, guilt flashed in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

“I bought those for you,” he said weakly. “They were supposed to be gifts.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “You bought me gifts using my own money? Are you insane?”

He clenched his fists. “I was going to pay you back! Once the investors closed the deal—”

“Enough,” I cut in, my voice trembling now, not from fear but from exhaustion. “I’m done, Xander. I’ve had enough lies, enough humiliation. I don’t want this marriage anymore. We should separate.”

His eyes widened, disbelief replacing his anger. “What? No—you can’t mean that. Caroline, think about what you’re saying!”

“I have,” I said firmly. “And I’m disappointed. You’ve drained me—emotionally, financially, completely. I don’t even recognize who you are anymore.”

He reached for me, desperation in his eyes. “Please, don’t do this. What about our son? What about Zane? What’s going to happen to him?”

I took a step back. “He’ll stay with me.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t—please, Caroline, I made mistakes, I know, but I can fix this! I’ll change, I’ll—”

His pleading was cut short by the sound of the front door opening.

“Xander?” a woman’s voice called softly.

We both turned.

And there she was—Maureen.

Wearing one of the dresses from the transactions. Even the necklace. No… everything from head to toe was mine.

My blood boiled. How dare they?

Her eyes widened the moment she saw us—me standing by the couch, Xander pale and frozen beside me, the room thick with tension.

She blinked rapidly, clutching the small purse in her hand. “Hey… what’s going on? Did I come at the wrong time?” she asked with an awkward laugh. “I just wanted to have dinner with my favorite people, but you both seem to be fighting. Is this bad?”

I let out a slow, humorless chuckle. “No, not bad,” I said softly, stepping closer. “Not bad at all. I was just telling him that we’re gonna separate.”

Maureen’s lips parted, color draining from her face. “W–What?”

I tilted my head, still smiling. “So you can go ahead and have dinner with him. Maybe even comfort him the way you used to.”