"That's not my problem," I said coolly.
"I was stupid!" she shouted. "I thought I was falling in love with someone new. But it was just stupid lust. It wasn't real. You were real. You always were."
I leaned in, my tone dropping to a whisper. "Funny. I used to say the same thing about you."
Her face crumpled, and I watched her break. But I wasn't done yet.
The next day, I met with my lawyer, Maya Patel—a no-nonsense woman with a silver tongue and sharper instincts. She'd handled nasty divorces before, but when I showed her the compiled evidence—texts, images, timelines, even proof of Lena's financial transactions using my money to fund those getaways—she smiled.
"This is airtight," she said. "You'll walk away clean."
"I want her to walk away with nothing," I replied.
Maya didn't flinch. "Then that's what we'll do."
She filed a petition to freeze the joint accounts. We also submitted documentation proving Lena's financial misuse. Since most of the assets were in my name—our condo, my stocks, my car—she had no leverage. Lena, once so poised and proud, was now fighting to survive in a world she had scorched herself.
But I wasn't done. Not yet.
A week later, I paid a visit to her parents. Yes, her parents. They had always liked me; in fact, they'd once called me the best thing that ever happened to Lena. I waited until her father, Dale, was alone on the porch before I approached. He looked up, startled.
"Leo, I won't stay long," I said, "but I thought you should know the truth before she paints a different picture."