Chapter 6 - The Cornered Rat
Caleb glanced around frantically, ensuring the two investors were still out of earshot. When he realized Liam was standing a few feet away looking like he was about to vomit, Caleb’s expression twisted from panic into aggressive defensiveness.
“Are you trying to ruin me?” Caleb hissed, leaning in close. “You had no right to freeze that account! Do you know what’s riding on this weekend? These aren't just random people—these are high-net-worth investors, venture capitalists, local politicians! If I pull this off, my agency goes global. I’ll make back ten times what we spent!”
“We spent?” Nora raised an eyebrow. “Caleb, you didn't spend a dime. You stole. And you did it using a card linked to my private account six months after we broke up.”
“You gave me that card!” Caleb whispered fiercely, his voice shaking with righteous indignation. “You told me to use it for our shared life! You have millions sitting in corporate portfolios and venture funds; you wouldn't even notice a drop in the bucket!”
“It’s not a drop in the bucket. It’s $140,000 of fraudulent charges, including a private estate rental and a luxury menswear shopping spree,” Nora said, stepping closer, her eyes flashing with cold fury. “And as of twelve minutes ago, the bank’s fraud division has flagged every single transaction as unauthorized criminal activity.”
Caleb’s jaw went slack. “You... you reported it as fraud?”
“I reported it as theft,” Nora corrected him smoothly. “Because that’s what it is.”
“You’re destroying me out of spite!” Caleb’s voice cracked, rising in volume enough that one of the investors turned around to look. Caleb forced a tight, strained smile toward the investor, nodding dismissively before turning back to Nora with venom in his eyes. “You’ve always hated that I was building something of my own! You couldn't stand the idea of me succeeding without your permission, so you waited until the absolute worst possible moment to pull the rug out from under me!”
Nora stared at him. She felt a profound, crystal-clear wave of pity wash over her. For six months, she had occasionally wondered if she was too cold, too career-driven, too rigid during their breakup.
Looking at him now—sweating, desperate, blaming everyone else for his own criminal incompetence—she realized she hadn't been cold enough.
“The police are already compiling the transaction logs, Caleb,” Nora said softly. “The bank is freezing all pending merchant authorizations. By tomorrow morning, Rosecliff Estate is going to lock these gates, and your investors are going to find out your entire life is built on stolen plastic.”
“Nora, please,” Caleb’s voice dropped, shifting instantly into desperate pleading. He reached out, trying to grab her hands. “Please. Just unfreeze the account for forty-eight hours. Let the gala happen. Once the contracts are signed, I’ll secure a bridge loan and pay you back every single cent. I swear to God, Nora. On my mother’s grave.”
Nora pulled her hands back, stepping away from him as if he carried a contagious disease.
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“You couldn't afford to pay me back in ten lifetimes, Caleb,” she said.
Then she turned her back on him, walked back to her Audi, and left him standing alone on the terrace of a $70,000-a-weekend estate that he no longer owned.
