At my engagement party, in front of all our family and friends, my fiancé, Ethan Carter, suddenly projected a massive, detailed Excel spreadsheet onto the giant screen. "Chloe, since we’re getting married, we need to settle our accounts for the past three years." "During our relationship, you drank 152 Starbucks lattes. I don’t drink sweet stuff, so you owe me for all of them." "We stayed in hotels 58 times. You were the one who wanted to use condoms to avoid getting pregnant, meaning you were the sole beneficiary. So, you need to cover the full cost of those." "And about that ultra-thin condom we used last night? It cost five dollars. You still haven't Venmoed me your $2.50 share." The ballroom fell into dead silence. I stared at his smug, self-righteous face. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a Venmo request from him. At the same time, a notification popped up on Instagram. Ethan had just posted a new story. It was a screenshot of his unpaid Venmo request to me. His caption read: *“Marry a wife, not an ancestor. Even brothers keep clear accounts! Avoid women who try to leech off you for $2.50!”* The comment section was already flooded with his friends calling me a "gold digger" and a "freeloader." I stared at the Excel sheet on the screen and laughed. "Fine. Since you want to settle accounts..." "Let’s talk about how much rent you owe me for living in my apartment for the past three years."
"Condoms." The moment that word left his mouth, my mom almost fainted. But Ethan didn’t show a hint of shame. He stood there, microphone in hand, oozing confidence. "Over the last three years, we used exactly seven boxes." "Chloe, let's be logical. They were used to keep *you* from getting pregnant." "Biologically speaking, you are the primary beneficiary of this product." "Without them, you would have faced the risk of an unwanted pregnancy and medical procedures that would harm your body." "So, logically, you should pay for them." He paused, seeing that I remained silent, and clicked on the very last row of the spreadsheet to show the details. "The ultra-thin one we used last night was five dollars." "You still owe me $2.50." "According to our 50/50 rule, even if it was our last night before marriage, we have to keep the accounts clean." The guests gasped in disbelief. Then, my phone buzzed again with social media notifications. Ethan had just posted a screenshot of the unpaid Venmo request on Snapchat and Instagram. His caption: *“Marry a wife, not an ancestor. Even brothers keep clear accounts! Avoid women who try to leech off you for $2.50!”* His toxic bros were already hyping him up in the comments. *“Bro, you’re a legend! Setting boundaries!”* *“Modern women are so entitled. Trying to get a free ride over a few bucks.”* *“Don't let her leech off you, man!”* Looking at those comments, I suddenly burst out laughing. Ethan thought he had intimidated me. "Chloe, don't play dumb," he said, adjusting his collar. "The total is twenty-three thousand, four hundred and eighty-two dollars and fifty cents." "Send it over, and we can go ahead with the wedding." "But under one condition: after we marry, my mother will manage our finances." "We will establish strict household rules. Everything will be 50/50." "However, since you’re the woman, the chores are naturally your responsibility. That part won't be 50/50." The sheer audacity was mind-blowing. He wanted to split the bills 50/50, but wanted me to do 100% of the labor. I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen. Ethan’s eyes lit up as his phone buzzed. But the moment he saw the notification, his smile froze. It was a payment of $2.50. My note on Venmo read: *“Breakup fee. Keep the change.”*
"Chloe, what is the meaning of this?" Ethan snapped, his face turning red. "Are you treating me like a beggar?" I calmly walked up to the stage and took the microphone from his hand. "Ethan, didn't you want to settle the accounts?" "That $2.50 is my share for the condom last night." "As for the rest..." I swept my gaze over the whispering crowd, my voice echoing clearly through the speakers. "I drank those lattes, yes. But the designer sneakers I bought you cost two thousand dollars." "You were the one who booked the hotels, but the gaming gear and top-ups I bought you cost at least five thousand." "And the custom-tailored suit you are wearing right now? I paid eighty-eight hundred dollars for it." "What’s wrong, Ethan? Is your Excel broken? Does it only calculate what you spend, but conveniently glides over what I spend?" Ethan gasped, momentarily speechless. But quickly, his embarrassment turned into pure rage. He yelled: "Those were gifts! You gave them to me voluntarily! You can’t ask for gifts back!" "But the money I spent was on things *you* consumed! It’s entirely different!" "Besides, you only bought me those things to suck up to me because you wanted to marry into my family!" "Now you want to use them to write off your debt? No way!" The double standards were truly spectacular. I sneered. "Marry into your family?" "With that cramped, run-down studio apartment of yours in the sketchy part of town?" "Or with your pathetic brain that makes you beg for $2.50 in public?" I hit him right where it hurt. Ethan’s biggest insecurity was his family background, and his biggest pride was his self-proclaimed identity as a "finance elite." "Chloe Miller! Don't you dare push your luck!" "Let me tell you, a materialistic woman like you will never find anyone else if you leave me!" "You're already twenty-six! In a couple of years, you’ll be expired goods!" "I’m doing charity work by marrying you!" "Transfer the twenty-three grand right now, get down on your knees, and beg my mother for forgiveness. Then I might overlook this." "Otherwise—" Before he could finish his sentence, I threw my glass of champagne right into his face. Ethan stared at me as if I were a lunatic. "Chloe! Did you just throw a drink at me?!" "You deserved it." "Ethan, let me make this official." "The wedding is off." "Take your mother, take your Excel spreadsheet, and get the hell out of my sight." I turned to my parents. "Mom, Dad, let's go. This party is over." My dad, who had been holding back his temper the entire time, finally lost it and flipped the main table. Ethan’s mother, who had been smugly watching the drama, immediately threw herself onto the floor, screaming and crying. "Assault! They are attacking us!" "They are abusing a poor widow and her son!" "Fine, the wedding is off! But you must pay us for emotional damages! Pay us!" The ballroom erupted into chaos. Ethan wiped the champagne from his face, pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture of me. "Fine, Chloe. You think you're tough." "Just wait. I will make you crawl back and beg for my forgiveness." "When that time comes, the prenup will be even harsher, and your parents will have to apologize to me on their knees!" I didn't even give him a second glance as I walked out of the venue.
The next morning, a loud, violent pounding woke me up. I didn't even need to look at the security camera to know who it was. I lived in a luxury penthouse in the city center, over 3,500 square feet, with a private elevator entrance. I owned this entire place, but I had never told Ethan. To protect his fragile ego, I had lied and told him I was renting it, claiming I had begged the landlord for a massive discount. Ethan always complained that I was terrible with money and that renting a luxury penthouse was just pure vanity. Yet, when he moved in, he enjoyed it more than anyone. I opened the door. Ethan stood at the front. Behind him was his mother and his freeloader younger brother, Tyler. "Chloe, what took you so long?" Ethan pushed past me impatiently, acting as if nothing had happened last night. To him, my anger was probably just a temporary tantrum. "What do you think you're doing?" I blocked the entryway, staring cold-bloodedly at them. Ethan assumed his "lord of the house" posture. "Since you decided to ruin the wedding, we need to talk about our post-breakup arrangements." "Even though you rent this place, I lived here for three years." "Now that I’m moving out, I need to take what's mine." He waved his hand at Tyler behind him. "Tyler, go inside and grab anything valuable." Tyler grinned. "You got it, bro! Man, this place is huge! My sister-in-law really lived like a queen!" Ethan’s mother pushed her way in, her greedy eyes darting around the living room. "Oh my, this leather sofa looks expensive." "And look at this TV! It must be worth thousands!" "Chloe, you're just a single girl now. Keeping such a huge place is a waste." She walked toward the living room as if she owned the place. I was stunned by their shamelessness. "Stop right there!" I barked. "This is my apartment. Who gave you permission to enter?" "This is trespassing. I will call the police." Ethan turned around, looking at me as if I were stupid. "Chloe, you're renting this place. It's not even yours." "Besides, we haven't officially broken up yet." "Even if we do, I’ve wasted three years of my youth on you. You paid the rent, but I paid with my time." He walked over to the Italian leather sofa and plop down. "It works out perfectly. Tyler is getting married next month, and his fiancée wants a nice place." "Since you've already paid the rent, it'll be a waste to leave it empty." "Tyler can use this as his wedding house for the next six months." "You have plenty of money anyway. Consider this your compensation to the Carter family." I laughed out of sheer anger. What kind of parasites were they? Not only did they refuse to leave, but they also wanted to steal my home for his brother's wedding? Looking at Ethan's smug face, I decided not to kick them out immediately. If they wanted to play dirty, I was going to ruin them. I quietly reached into my pocket and turned on the voice recorder on my phone. "Ethan, let me get this straight. You want to live here?" "And you want your brother to use my apartment for his wedding?" Ethan nodded. "Exactly. Be generous, Chloe." "You embarrassed me in front of everyone last night. I haven't even settled that score with you yet." "Letting my brother use this place for six months will make us even." "Oh, and you’ll need to prepay the rent for the next six months." "If you don't, I'll go to your company and make a scene. I'll tell everyone how you led me on and ruined my life." I suppressed my rage, baiting him to say more. "And what if I say no?" Ethan’s mother rushed over, pointing her finger at my nose. "Say no? Who do you think you are to say no?" "My Ethan spent three years of his life with you! We’re being nice by not suing you for wasting his youth!" "If you don't agree, I’ll move in today and never leave!" Ethan smiled triumphantly. "See that, Chloe? We have nothing to lose." "You're a professional woman. You wouldn't want to make a public scene, would you?" "Be smart. Pack your things and get out." "Oh, and leave your car keys behind. Tyler needs a nice car for his wedding convoy. Your BMW will do nicely." I looked at the three of them. My heart grew colder and colder. Since you want to be criminals, don't blame me for sending you to prison. I turned off the recording and pulled a can of pepper spray out of my bag. "You want my apartment? You want my car?" "Sure." "Let's see if you have the lives to enjoy them."
Ethan laughed when he saw the pepper spray. "Chloe, who are you trying to scare with that toy?" "I dare you to spray me." "I’ll sue you for assault and take every single penny you have!" His mother chimed in, "Exactly! You little bitch, you want to fight?" "Tyler, teach her a lesson!" Tyler had been waiting for this. He stepped forward. "Chloe, don't make this hard on yourself. Give me the car keys, or I'll make you." I gripped the pepper spray, calculating the distance. But before Tyler could grab me, Ethan stepped in and held him back. "Tyler, don't use violence. We are civilized people." He turned his phone screen toward me and smirked. "Chloe, do you remember these?" I looked at the screen. It was a photo of me right after a shower, wrapped in a towel, wearing a face mask. Although it wasn’t explicit, the angle he took it from was extremely suggestive and malicious. I feigned panic. "Where did you get that? What do you want?" Ethan was extremely satisfied with my reaction. "Nothing much. But if you don't agree to our terms..." "I will send these photos to your company's Slack channels." "And your building's WhatsApp group. And your college alumni network." "The headline will be: *'High-flying corporate female executive leads a double life, trying to seduce her boyfriend's younger brother.'*" "Do you think you’ll still have a job after that? Will you even be able to show your face in public?" I sneered inwardly. He called *that* an intimate photo? Seducing his brother? His logic was truly pathetic. But on the outside, I kept up the act of a terrified victim. "Ethan, you are despicable! This is illegal!" Ethan laughed out loud. "Illegal? We were dating. It's just a little couple's fun. How is that illegal?" "But I don't want to ruin you completely, Chloe." "So, in addition to the apartment and the car..." "You will sign a promissory note." "Five hundred thousand dollars. As compensation for the emotional distress you caused me over the past three years." "Sign it, and I’ll delete the photos." Ethan’s mother’s eyes turned green at the mention of half a million dollars. "Yes! Five hundred thousand! Not a penny less!" "With that money, Tyler can pay his wedding deposit!" Tyler smirked. "Just sign it, Chloe. Buy your peace." "Otherwise, if the whole internet sees your body, how will you ever find another man?" I hesitated for a moment. "Fine. I’ll sign. But you have to promise to delete everything." Ethan immediately pulled a pen and paper from his bag. He had come prepared. The note was written exactly to his specifications: *“I, Chloe Miller, due to personal relationship disputes, voluntarily agree to pay Ethan Carter $500,000 as compensation for emotional distress.”* I signed my name. Ethan’s grin was so wide it almost reached his ears. "See? If you had cooperated earlier, we wouldn't have had to do this." "Now, go pack your bags." Looking at his triumphant back, a cold smile crept onto my face. Extortion. Blackmail. The amount involved was half a million dollars. In this country, that’s a grand larceny extortion charge. That’s ten years in federal prison, minimum. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Ethan frowned. "Who is it?" "Movers," a loud voice called out. Ethan blinked and looked at me. "You called movers? Well, at least you’re quick." He opened the door. Four burly men in matching professional moving uniforms stood outside. The leader looked at his clipboard. "Are you Ms. Miller?" Ethan pointed at me. "She is. But I’m in charge of this place now." "You guys are here to move stuff, right? Move everything from the master bedroom down to the basement storage." The mover ignored Ethan and looked directly at me. "Ms. Miller, as per your request, we are clearing out the entire apartment, correct?" I nodded. "Yes." "Pack up everything. Except for the people and the trash. Take it all away." Ethan froze. "What do you mean clear out the apartment? Chloe, what are you doing?" I walked to the entryway. "It means I’m moving out." "And as for you guys..." "Since you love this place so much, you can enjoy living in an empty shell." Ethan panicked. "No! Stop! You can't take the furniture! If you clear the place, how is my brother going to get married?" He tried to block the movers. The lead mover, a six-foot-three giant, easily shoved Ethan aside with one arm. "Sir, do not interfere with our work." Ethan’s mother immediately threw herself onto the floor, preparing to scream and cry. But a mover placed a massive wooden crate right next to her, almost pinning her foot down. "Watch out, lady. We’re moving a heavy cabinet here." Ethan was crimson with rage. He pointed his finger at me. "Chloe Miller! Don't tempt me! I will leak the photos right now!" I pulled out my phone and waved it. "Go ahead. And while you do that, I have some files to send to your company." "For example, the audio recording of your extortion just now." "And a photo of this signed promissory note." Ethan’s face went pale. He clutched the note in his pocket, his eyes turning vicious. "You set me up? Tyler! Lock the door!" "Nobody leaves this apartment today!" "If you want to play dirty, let’s go down together!" The movers stopped, startled by the sudden escalation. I was slightly surprised. I didn't expect them to be stupid enough to attempt false imprisonment. "Chloe, I wanted to leave you a way out," Ethan snarled. "But you chose death." "If you don't wire the half-million dollars right now, you aren't leaving this room!" The atmosphere turned incredibly tense. Suddenly, a loud, heavy banging rattled the front door.
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