Chapter 5

"You came."

Serena was sitting in a corner booth at the Sapphire Café. An untouched black coffee sat in front of her.

I sat down across from her and took her in.

Long hair, minimal makeup, wearing a soft cream knit dress. She had an old, worn watch on her wrist.

She was pretty. The quiet, elegant kind of pretty that you couldn't find a single flaw in.

"You're Serena Hale?"

"Yes."

"What kind of 'friend' are you to Ethan?"

She twirled her coffee cup. Her fingers were very pale.

"College classmates. We dated for two years."

Her tone was flat, as if she were talking about someone else.

I leaned back against the booth.

"So, the ex-girlfriend."

"Yes."

"And?"

She pulled a worn envelope from her bag and slid it across the table.

The edges were frayed. On the front were two lines of text written in Ethan’s handwriting.

I recognized his handwriting. It was beautiful and sharp.

*To Serena Hale.*

"Read it yourself," she said.

I pulled out the letter.

It wasn't long, just one page. The gist of it was Ethan saying his family was putting massive pressure on him to marry an heiress from an equal social standing. He didn't want to drag her down, so he was letting her go. The last line read: *Once I have the power, I will come back for you.*

I folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

"Read it."

"Aren't you mad?"

"Why would I be? What he did in college has nothing to do with me."

Serena stared at me, her eyes blinking in surprise.

"Chloe, are you seriously not mad?"

"No. I wasn't the one dating him in college."

She looked down and let out a soft laugh.

It was a brief laugh, but I caught the emotion behind it.

It wasn't embarrassment. It was a faint trace of disappointment.

She wanted me to be furious.

She had dragged me all the way out here to show me this letter just to make me miserable.

If I was miserable, she would have her opening.

"Chloe, I didn't just ask you out today because of this letter."

"Go on."

"Before the Vance family went under, Ethan reached out to me."

I picked up the glass of warm water the waitress had brought and took a sip.

"When?"

"Three months ago."

Three months ago. Back then, Ethan hadn't mentioned a single thing about his company’s troubles to me. He came home every day, ate dinner, and sat next to me scrolling through his phone while I peeled oranges.

"Why did he reach out to you?"

"To borrow money."

Serena lowered her voice.

"He said his company was hitting a rough patch and needed emergency liquid capital. He asked if I could help."

"Did you?"

"Yes. I lent him thirty million."

I set my glass down.

Thirty million. The ex-girlfriend. Three months ago.

He borrowed thirty million dollars from his ex-girlfriend and didn't tell his wife.

"Where did you get thirty million?"

"My own company. I run a biotech startup. We just closed our Series A funding two years ago."

A biotech entrepreneur ex-girlfriend. With her own company. Who casually lends him thirty million dollars.

"And then?"

"Then the Vance family went under anyway. My thirty million went down the drain."

She slid the envelope aside and crossed her hands on the table.

"Chloe, I'm not here to ask you for the money. I’m here to tell you that the Vance family's collapse wasn't a natural business failure. It was a setup."

"What do you mean?"

"I investigated. The suppliers that suddenly pulled out of the Vance Group? They all trace back to the same parent holding company."

I stared at her.

"Who owns it?"

"I’m still digging. But I have a lead."

She paused, her gaze locking onto my face.

"Chloe, do you want to team up with me?"

"To do what?"

"To find the person who did this. And to help Ethan get his empire back."

I toyed with my glass, staying silent.

Her eyes lit up, and she leaned in closer.

"I know you might feel like this has nothing to do with you since you signed the divorce papers. But—"

"Serena," I cut her off.

"Yes?"

"You lent him thirty million, you’re investigating the mastermind behind his downfall, and now you want to partner with me. Are you trying to help him, or are you just trying to win him back?"

Her face froze for a fraction of a second.

It was incredibly brief. But I saw it.

It was the look of someone who had been exposed and couldn't mask it in time.

"I just... he’s my friend, after all."

"Friends don't carry around ten-year-old love letters to show to their friend’s ex-wife."

Her fingers tightened.

I stood up.

"Thanks for the info. But I’m not interested in a partnership."

As I reached the door, she called out to me.

"Chloe."

I turned around.

She was still sitting there, her expression having reverted back to that gentle, quiet mask.

"Do you know why Ethan married you?"

I looked at her.

"Because of the assets under your name. His family dug into your background and realized you were a Sterling. That rainy night wasn't an accident. It was a staged play."

"You think you rescued a stray man. In reality, he waited in the pouring rain on that street for three days just to get picked up by you."

I didn't say a word.

I pushed the door open, letting the cold wind rush in.

Three days.

He waited in the rain for three days.

Just to be "rescued" by me.

For once, my brain didn't run a half-beat behind.

Everything clicked instantly.

But knowing it didn't change anything.

My stomach started aching with that dull, heavy pressure again.

I pressed my hand against my lower abdomen and hailed a cab.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"East Side Women’s Hospital."