Chapter 4

"Natalie... you played me?"

Ethan's voice was shaking — with rage pushed to its limit, and with fear pushed to its limit.

"Played you?"

I let out a cold laugh, pulled a stack of photographs from under the coffee table, and threw them in their faces.

The photos scattered and fluttered down through the air.

Every single one was in sharp, high-resolution detail.

Ethan and Claire kissing in a hotel room.

Ethan at a luxury boutique, swiping his card to buy Claire a designer bag.

And one more — Ethan on his knees in front of Claire, making earnest, solemn promises.

He had said: "Don't worry, babe. I'll get that woman's property one way or another, and then we'll disappear together."

"What... what is all this?"

His mother picked up one of the photos. Her hands shook like she'd lost control of them entirely.

Claire had gone white. She instinctively tried to cover her face, then realized there was nowhere to hide.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

I looked at Ethan, the way you might look at a pile of garbage.

"Ethan Collins — this is your so-called loan shark debt? This is your so-called failed investment?"

"You embezzled funds to cover for this woman, bought her bags and a house, and you were willing to sink this low to do it?"

"The blood on you — that's fake blood, isn't it?"

"It's a bit too ripe. Next time buy something fresher."

Ethan completely fell apart.

He dropped to his knees again with a heavy thud — not a performance this time. His legs genuinely gave out.

"Natalie, honey, let me explain — it's not what you think. It was her. Claire seduced me. I was tricked!"

"Are you even a man, Ethan!"

Claire screamed, dropping the act entirely, spinning around to tear into him.

"You were the one who said that woman was stupid as a rock — that it would be easy to fool her into handing over the money. Now that you're caught, you want to blame me?"

"You were the one who came after me."

The two of them stood right in front of me, clawing at each other like animals.

His mother watched the whole implosion, eyes rolling back, nearly fainting where she stood.

"Enough!"

I snapped, cutting through their chaos.

"I don't have time to watch your performance."

Ethan saw that the sympathy angle wasn't working.

His eyes shifted, and that desperate aggression dissolved in an instant — replaced by a sickly, nausea-inducing display of devotion.

He shuffled forward on his knees, ignoring the dull thud of each impact against the hardwood floor.

He clutched the edge of the couch with both hands, tilted his face upward — blood and snot and tears all running together — and tried to force a pleading smile.

"Honey, Natalie, listen to me — this is all a misunderstanding. It really is!"

He pointed at Claire, his whole hand trembling:

"It was her! She set me up and ruined me! I lost my mind for a while, but my heart has always been with you. Seven years — does that mean nothing against one mistake?"

"One mistake?"

I let out a cold laugh, leaning back slightly to put distance between me and the rancid smell coming off him.

"Ethan Collins — fraud, extortion, threatening me with a weapon — you call that one mistake?"

"I never actually meant to hurt you! That knife was fake, the blood was fake, I was just... just too desperate!"

Ethan was babbling, tripping over his own words, when suddenly he seemed to remember something. He dug into his pocket and produced a worn, old keychain.

It was a small teddy bear charm, the edges rubbed smooth with age.

"Honey, look — I still have this."

"Sophomore year, to get you that limited-edition stuffed animal, I waited in line all night just to get this little gift with purchase."

"It was snowing so hard that day. I was running a fever, and I still went out there to get it for you — just to see you smile."