Chapter 1 Arthur Sterling was the CEO of Sterling Enterprises, and our company’s biggest client. Yet, every time he finished a meeting at our office, he would walk past my desk and ask a very strange question. "Ms. Hayes, are you desperate for money lately?" I thought he was insulting me. Until today, when he stood in front of me again and lowered his voice: "If you are truly in a difficult situation, you can tell me directly." I was just about to ask him what he meant when a line of glowing, floating text suddenly drifted across my vision. 【He’s asking you this because he is your online boyfriend.】 Online boyfriend? But I’ve never dated anyone online. 【Your real boyfriend is using your identity to catfish him.】 【He has already scammed him out of $150,000.】 【If you don't do something right now, you are going to take the fall and go to prison.】 【And your boyfriend will take the money and fly far away with his mistress.】 The file folder in my hands smacked onto the floor. Everyone in the office turned to look at me. I crouched down to pick up the papers, my fingertips trembling violently. Arthur bent down as well, picking up the top sheet of paper for me. He handed it back, his voice low: "Why do you look so pale?" I looked up at him. In his eyes, there was scrutiny, restraint, and a kind of exhaustion I couldn't quite read. I replied, "I'm fine." The floating text was still scrolling. 【Do not speak recklessly.】 【Right now, all surface-level evidence points to you.】 【The profile picture is yours, the lifestyle photos are yours, and the Instagram captions are yours.】 【The bank account receiving the money is legally registered under the name Clara Hayes.】 My back was instantly drenched in cold sweat. Arthur looked at me for a few seconds, as if he wanted to keep asking. Finally, he just said, "Do you have time after work?" The looks in my co-workers' eyes immediately shifted. My supervisor peeked out from the conference room door, smiling cautiously: "Mr. Sterling, is there an issue with the project? I can have the project manager walk you through it." "No need." Arthur didn't look at anyone else, keeping his eyes entirely on me. "I want to speak with Ms. Hayes privately." My palms were slick with sweat. He already suspected me. Or rather, he fully believed I was the woman who had taken his $150,000. I forced myself to stand steady. "Mr. Sterling, I apologize, but I have plans tonight." His gaze darkened. "Tomorrow, then." It wasn't a negotiation. It wasn't a threat, either. But he clearly had no intention of letting this go. I nodded. "Okay." After Arthur left, the office exploded. "Clara, do you know Mr. Sterling?" "Why did he ask for you specifically?" "Are you secretly dating the client behind our backs?" I didn't answer a single question. I sat back at my desk and stared at my phone screen. Derek had texted me half an hour ago. "Babe, come home early tonight. I'm making your favorite sweet and sour chicken." It was followed by a kissing emoji. In the past, seeing that would have made me feel sweet. Now, it just felt terrifying. Derek and I had been together for three years. He didn't have a stable job. But he always claimed he was day-trading and investing—sometimes making a quick buck, sometimes taking a loss. Whenever I pushed him to get a real job, he would hug me and say: "Clara, just give me a little more time. I promise I'll give you a good life." I believed him. Because he was always generous with me. After work, I didn't go straight home. I sat in the convenience store downstairs from my office and bought a bottle of water. As I twisted the cap off, my hands were still shaking. The floating text intermittently appeared again. 【Don't confront him directly.】 【Derek is a great actor. His first reaction will be to deny it, and then he'll accuse you of trying to climb into Arthur Sterling's bed.】 【First, ask him if he knows Arthur.】 【The burner phone is hidden inside the bottom lining of the living room sofa.】 【The passcode is your birthday, backward.】 I closed my eyes. I didn't want to believe the floating text. But Arthur's reaction today, combined with Derek's spending habits over the past six months, made everything line up perfectly. When I got home, Derek was transferring takeout into proper bowls. Seeing me, he smiled gently. "You're back? Why are you so late today?" I stood in the entryway, not even taking my shoes off. "Derek, do you know Arthur Sterling?" The chopsticks in his hand paused for a fraction of a second. "Who?" He quickly smiled. "The CEO of Sterling Enterprises? How would I know him?" I stared at him. "Oh. It's just that he's been paying a lot of attention to me lately at work. I thought maybe you guys knew each other." The smile on Derek's face faded. "Clara, what is that supposed to mean?" He put the chopsticks down, his tone instantly shifting to defensive and victimized. "Don't tell me you've caught feelings for the guy." I didn't speak. He grew more agitated: "You look down on me because I don't have a corporate job, don't you? Do you think I'm not good enough for you? Have you been wanting to find a rich guy this whole time?" In the past, I would have panicked. I would have explained myself. I would have comforted him first. But today, I only felt a freezing chill. I said quietly, "I was just asking." Derek stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly softened and walked over to hug me. "I'm sorry, I'm just too sensitive. I'm so scared of losing you." I didn't push him away. I didn't hug him back, either. The glowing text drifted over his shoulder. 【See that?】 【He's not feeling guilty.】 【He's just testing you to see how much you know.】 Late that night, after Derek had fallen into a deep sleep, I slowly slid his arm off my waist. I walked barefoot into the living room, not daring to turn on the lights. There was a narrow tear in the fabric under the left side of the sofa. I reached my hand inside and felt something hard. An old smartphone. Black casing, matte screen protector. I held the power button. The screen lit up, asking for a passcode. I typed in my birthday, backward. It unlocked. In that moment, the blood in my veins ran ice cold. The phone was logged into an alternate WhatsApp account. The profile picture was me. The display name was "Ellie." The status updates were filled with fragments of my daily life. The cake I burnt last weekend. The view from my office lobby on a rainy day. A picture of my back taken when my best friend and I went to the beach. There was even a selfie I had posted on Instagram two years ago and subsequently deleted. Except, all the captions had been altered. They had been rewritten to sound like a gentle, fragile, lonely woman who was incredibly good at playing the victim. Pinned to the top of the chat list was the name: Mr. Sterling. I tapped into it. The chat logs were dense. "Ellie" talked about how exhausted she was, and how her family was forcing her to go on blind dates. "Ellie" said she didn't want to bow to reality, but she truly had no money. "Ellie" said if someone could just pull her out of this hole, she would remember it for the rest of her life. Arthur didn't reply often. But every response was earnest. "Don't make decisions against your heart just for money." "If you just need cash to bridge the gap, I can help you." "Worry about paying it back when you're financially stable." Then came the transfer receipts. $3,000. $5,000. $10,000. $20,000. $50,000. Up until the very last transaction, three days ago: $60,000. The excuse was that my mother was hospitalized and needed the money for surgery deposits. Meanwhile, my mother was back in Ohio playing pickleball every single day, healthy enough to scream at my dad for half an hour straight over a missed shot. I kept scrolling down the chat list. There was another conversation. The contact name was Vanessa. The profile picture was a woman wearing heavy makeup. Vanessa: Did Arthur go to Clara's office again today? Derek: Yeah. Vanessa: Is he suspicious? Derek: Probably. The real Clara isn't as soft and submissive as the character I play. He'll realize something is off sooner or later. Vanessa: Then let's wrap this up. Don't drag it out. Derek: I'm going to scam him for one last $100,000 "wedding ring" fund. Once the money clears, I'm taking you and we're leaving. Vanessa: What about Clara? Derek: The bank account is in her name, the photos are hers, the persona is her. If shit hits the fan, she can explain it to the cops herself. Vanessa: True, she's the perfect scapegoat. Perfect scapegoat. Those words twisted like a knife in my chest. Derek and I had been together for three years. I had paid his rent, transferred him money for groceries, and eaten instant ramen with him during his lowest points. He told me I was the best girl he had ever met in his life. It turned out that by "best," he meant I was the best human shield to take a felony charge for him. I took out my own phone and hit record. I started by filming the burner phone's exterior. Then the device serial number. The login details. The account information. The chat logs with Arthur. The transfer details. And finally, Derek and Vanessa's conversation planning the split. I recorded it page by page, until my arms ached and my eyes stung. Right as I was finishing, a new message popped up from Vanessa. Vanessa: Have Clara go meet Arthur in person tomorrow. Vanessa: If she physically sits in front of him, he'll definitely believe it. Vanessa: When it goes down, just say the account is hers and she asked you to handle the communication for her. You're just a messenger. Derek: Will do. She's easy to manipulate. I stared at those words and suddenly smiled. I smiled until my eyes burned. I heard him shifting on the mattress in the bedroom. I immediately locked the screen and shoved the burner phone back into the base of the sofa. When I climbed back into bed, Derek groggily pulled me into his arms. "Babe, where did you go?" I closed my eyes. "Just getting some water." He kissed my hair. "Good girl." My body was entirely rigid. I didn't move an inch. The floating text slowly appeared above us. 【First piece of evidence acquired.】 【But it's not enough.】 【Tomorrow, he's going to propose to you. He'll use marriage to bait you into his trap.】 【Do not go soft on him.】 The next day, Derek acted as if nothing was wrong. He warmed up milk for me, squeezed my toothpaste, and held me tightly before I left for work. "Clara, come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you." I looked at his face. "What kind of surprise?" He smiled adoringly. "You'll find out tonight." I smiled back. "Okay." When I got to the office, the very first thing I did was back up the evidence. One copy uploaded to a secure cloud drive. One copy emailed to a brand new email address. And another copy saved to a flash drive, tucked securely into the innermost zipper of my purse. I couldn't take any chances. If Derek could open a bank account in my name, it meant he had my social security number and ID information. Maybe he stole it last year when he suggested we open a joint savings account. Or maybe even earlier. At the time, he had said: "We're going to save up for a house together, we need a joint account." He held my driver's license and had me blink at the banking app's facial recognition screen. I didn't even suspect a thing. Looking back, every time he said "Let me help you," it was a trap. In the afternoon, Arthur's assistant walked into our department. His name was Mr. Bennett. He wore a dark suit and spoke very politely. "Ms. Hayes, Mr. Sterling wanted me to confirm: is 7:00 PM at The Grand Court Restaurant still convenient for you?" All my colleagues perked their ears up. I nodded. "Yes, it is." Assistant Bennett visibly sighed in relief. "I can pick you up downstairs." "No need, I'll get there myself." He hesitated for a moment but didn't insist. After work, I went to The Grand Court. Arthur had booked a private dining room. It wasn't a romantic setting; it felt more like a boardroom. When I walked in, he was already there. He wore a dark grey dress shirt, cuffs neatly buttoned, and there were only two glasses of warm water on the table. He stood up and pulled a chair out for me. "Sit." I sat down, my palms sweating. Arthur noticed. But he didn't immediately slam the bank transfers on the table to interrogate me. And he didn't use his status as my client to pressure me. He simply asked, "Have you truly not run into any financial difficulties recently?" He had asked this same question many times. But this time, I knew why. I asked back, "Mr. Sterling, why do you constantly assume I'm desperate for money?" Arthur fell silent for a moment. "Because you told me you were." My heart sank. "When did I ever say that?" He looked at me, his eyes complex. "Many times." I gripped my water glass. "I don't remember." He asked again: "Then do you remember what the reason was the very first time you asked to borrow money from me?" I shook my head. "I have never asked to borrow money from you." The private room went dead quiet. The light in Arthur's eyes slowly dimmed—not into anger, but as if the last shred of hope he was clinging to had just been crushed. He pulled out his phone and pushed it across the table toward me. On the screen was his chat log with "Ellie". "Ellie" had sent a photo of me at a bookstore. That photo was taken by Derek. I was standing in front of a bookshelf, turning back to smile at the camera. I used to love that picture. But now, beneath the photo was a caption that I had never written. "Mr. Sterling, sometimes I feel like I just can't hold on anymore." Arthur had replied: "Don't carry it all by yourself." I stared at those words, my chest tight with a mix of fury and sorrow. My face, used to feign weakness. My life, used to stage a play. I looked up. "Mr. Sterling, if someone scammed you out of a lot of money, what would you do?" Arthur looked at me. "It depends on whether it was intentional." I froze. His voice was very low. "I'm not afraid of losing money. I'm afraid that I've become so blind I can't even tell if the person I like is real or fake." My breath hitched. He wasn't just trying to catch a scammer. He was scammed out of his money, and his feelings. Yet, even after meeting the real me in person, he hadn't exposed me in public, and hadn't cornered me in front of my colleagues. He booked a private room, closed the door, and left me my dignity. The glowing text drifted past. 【You can show your hand now.】 【He suspected you, but he never wanted to destroy you.】 【The person who truly wants to destroy you is waiting for you at home.】 I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I pulled the flash drive and my phone out of my purse. "Mr. Sterling, I have evidence." His gaze sharpened. I slid the USB drive across the table. "The person you've been texting... wasn't me." "It was my boyfriend. Derek Cole." Arthur didn't speak right away. His face was cold, like jade trapped under frost. I knew how absurd that sentence sounded to him. He had waited for six months, tested the waters for six months, suspected me for six months. And now I was telling him that the person on the other side of the screen wasn't me. It wasn't even a woman. He stared at the chat logs on my phone for a very long time. The private room was deathly silent.
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