Chapter 2 - The Paper Trail
By 9:00 p.m., the house was dead silent, but the digital world was on fire.
Ethan had eventually been escorted inside by the police after Mark threw a dirty car blanket from his SUV at him. Brooke had been dragged away by Mark, wrapped in a blue tarp from our garage, weeping hysterically while neighbors watched from their lawns.
Ethan was currently sitting on the edge of the guest bed upstairs, wrapped in a bathrobe, staring at the floor. I sat at the kitchen island, the scent of fresh basil still lingering in the air, with my laptop open.
"Lauren, please," Ethan said, walking down the stairs, his voice hollow. "You ruined my reputation. The whole HOA is talking. My boss lives three blocks away, Lauren! Do you know what this does to my standing at the firm?"
"Your standing?" I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You cared about your standing when you were pressed against our neighbor on an $18,000 pool that my inheritance paid for?"
"It was a mistake! It only happened a few times!" he lied, his voice rising in desperation.
"Don't lie to me, Ethan. It insults my intelligence," I said, turning the laptop screen toward him.
During the last three hours, I hadn't just been scrolling through the neighborhood gossip. I had logged into our shared cellular account, our bank statements, and the cloud server for our home security system.
"Every Tuesday for the past six months," I said, pointing at the highlighted rows on the screen. "Brooke comes over at 2:00 p.m. while I'm at the regional office. Your phone log shows encrypted messages on WhatsApp at exactly those times. And look at this..." I clicked a tab, revealing our bank statement. "A $5,000 charge at Tiffany & Co. last month. You told me it was a corporate gift for a client. But I called Brooke’s best friend, Sarah, an hour ago. She casually mentioned Brooke’s beautiful new diamond bracelet."
Ethan’s face went entirely pale. The corporate confidence drained completely, leaving a hollow, pathetic shell.
"You used our joint account to buy your mistress jewelry, and you used my home to sleep with her," I whispered, the reality of it cutting deep, though I refused to let him see me cry. "Tomorrow morning, you will receive a visit from my lawyer. You are going to sign a post-nuptial agreement that transfers 100% of this house, the pool, and your remaining stock options to me. If you don't, I will upload the crystal-clear, high-definition 4K footage of your afternoon swim directly to your company’s HR portal."
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"You wouldn't," he gasped. "That’s revenge porn, Lauren! It’s illegal!"
"It’s a security recording of a trespasser on my own property, Ethan. I can argue I was documenting a crime," I said, my voice ice-cold. "Choose your next words very carefully."
