Chapter 5 - The Mistress Unveiled
While Julian was dealing with armed process servers on my front porch, I turned my attention to the woman who had helped inspire his sudden, desperate push for a divorce. Her name was Chloe Miller, a twenty-six-year-old junior marketing coordinator at the commercial real estate firm where Julian worked as a mid-level account manager. She was all hair extensions, designer handbags, and an inflated sense of entitlement paid for by my credit cards.
Using my iPad from my hospital bed, I logged into the cellular family plan that was registered under my name and my social security number. For months, Julian had been paying for Chloe’s latest iPhone and her unlimited data plan using our joint account, categorizing the expense on his budget sheets as a “client communication stipend.”
I pulled up the itemized text logs and cloud photo backups. Chloe had been remarkably careless. Her camera roll was filled with selfies taken in luxury hotel suites, photos of expensive dinners at downtown steakhouses, and screenshots of jewelry she expected Julian to buy her once he “dumped his boring, sick wife and took her for half her worth.”
I found a text message she had sent him just an hour ago, completely oblivious to the legal firestorm consuming his life:
“Baby, I saw the most gorgeous Cartier bracelet today! Can’t wait until your wife signs those papers tonight so we can celebrate! You promised we’d book the trip to Cabo by Friday. Don't let her stall you!”
I took a screenshot of the message and saved it to the master fraud file Marcus was building. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement of my finger, I accessed the primary carrier administrator portal.
I didn't just suspend Chloe’s cellular service; I reported her device as stolen, wiping the phone remotely via the administrative security protocol Julian had foolishly left linked to my master email account. At the exact same moment, I drafted a polite, formal email from my professional auditing address to the Vice President of Human Resources at Julian’s commercial real estate firm.
I didn't make emotional accusations. I attached the hotel invoices, the corporate credit card receipts that Julian had fraudulently expensed as "client entertainment," and the date-stamped photos of him and his subordinate utilizing company-paid travel stipends for romantic getaways.
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“To whom it may concern,” I wrote. “As a certified fraud examiner and the primary guarantor of Julian Vance’s joint accounts, I am submitting this documentation of gross financial misconduct and corporate expense policy violations for your internal review. I believe a formal audit of his client entertainment ledger is warranted immediately.”
I hit send, leaned back against my pillows, and let the soothing hiss of my oxygen monitor lull me into the best sleep I had experienced in years.
