“I didn’t need your ‘leaked’ photos, Jessica,” I said, turning to her. “I’m a big girl. I know how to use a shared cloud account and a forensic accountant. You thought you were the one holding the power because you have his ‘attention’? Honey, you can have him. Along with the $14,000 in credit card debt he’s been hiding, and the fact that he’s been using your ‘influencer’ career as a tax write-off for his ‘consulting’ firm.”
I looked at the screen, which now showed a series of texts Charlie had sent to his brother: ‘She’s so boring, man. I just stay for the house and the stability. Jessica is the fire, but my wife is the paycheck.’
The “fire” turned to look at the “paycheck.” Jessica looked at Charlie, then at the screen, then at the door. She realized she wasn’t the “other woman” in a grand romance; she was a line item in a fraud case.
The Final Frame
I walked over to the laptop and clicked one final file.
It was the photo from my session. The one where I looked powerful. The one that made Charlie’s phone blow up. I superimposed a single sentence over it in bold, elegant script:
“INVESTMENT RETURN: 100% OF MYSELF.”
