Chapter 2

Chloe had been two years behind me. Coming from an impoverished family, she had been quiet, introverted, and virtually invisible on campus.

Our only interaction was during a club event where I casually lent her a hand.

After that, she would politely greet me whenever we crossed paths, but we never had any real conversation.

I remembered Henry mentioning once that his corporate foundation was sponsoring an academically gifted, underprivileged student from our alma mater.

At the time, I hadn't thought twice about it. I had even praised him with a smile, commending him for giving back to our school.

Now, my intuition screamed that none of this was a coincidence.

That sponsored student back then had undoubtedly been Chloe.

I wanted nothing more than to storm into the kitchen, smash the phone against his face, and scream at him to explain what the hell was going on.

Yet sheer reason pinned me in place.

I watched him walk out carrying a steaming mug of tea, the gentle smile resting comfortably on his face.

A sudden, bone-chilling shiver swept through me.

How deeply calculating did a man have to be to weave lies so seamlessly, masking his deceit behind the noble banner of "charity" and "the greater good"?

If I confronted him right now, he would have a hundred smooth excuses ready to brush it off. He might even turn it around and accuse me of being paranoid and unreasonable.

I couldn't afford to alert the snake in the grass.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I accepted the mug and forced a stiff smile.

"Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering where we should go celebrate our anniversary."

I blew gently on the tea, keeping my voice as steady as humanly possible.

A flicker of relief passed through Henry's eyes. He chuckled and ruffled my hair affectionately.

"I already took care of all the plans. All you need to do is show up and look gorgeous."

Watching his pitch-perfect performance, I silently made up my mind.

I was going to tear off his saintly philanthropic mask with my own bare hands.

Starting that day, I launched a covert investigation.

I casually mentioned to Henry that I wanted to learn more about the operations of his company's charity fund, the Vance Hope Foundation.

"Why the sudden interest in that?" Henry asked, peeling an orange for me, sounding entirely nonchalant.

"Didn't you always say I'm your strongest support system?" I leaned against his shoulder, letting a hint of playful sweetness creep into my voice. "You're doing such amazing work with the foundation. I want to learn the ropes so maybe I can take some of the burden off your shoulders."

Hearing that stroked his ego perfectly.

He smiled indulgently. "My sweet Brooke is getting more thoughtful every day."

"Still, the foundation is bogged down with dry, boring spreadsheets. You'd get a headache just looking at them."

"I'd hate to see you stress over that stuff."

"Just relax and enjoy life at home. Leave the heavy lifting to me."

With just a few smooth deflections, he shut me out completely.

I didn't push it, but I knew that route was a dead end.

Instead, I reached out to my childhood best friend. She was a partner at a top executive search firm, boasting an extensive network and plenty of discreet channels.

I asked her to help me quietly obtain the Vance Hope Foundation’s detailed beneficiary lists and financial disbursement records.

After hearing my story, she paused, leaving me with only one sentence: "Brooke, protect yourself."

Three days later, an encrypted file landed in my inbox.

My hands trembled as I clicked it open.

Forcing myself to stay calm, I flipped through the document page by page.

Very quickly, the name I was looking for leapt out at me: Chloe Summers.

Among all the short-term assistance programs run by the Vance Hope Foundation, Chloe was the sole recipient of a long-term, specialized grant.

And the start date aligned perfectly with three years ago—precisely when Henry had first mentioned giving back to our alma mater.

What terrified me even more were the financial figures.

Every entry was meticulously itemized. On top of her annual tuition and standard living stipends, there was a recurring "Special Talent Development Grant."

The total sum was exorbitant—more than enough to fund an extraordinarily lavish lifestyle in this tier-one city.

The label of "underprivileged student" had been nothing more than a front.