“If you pretend you don't know anything, you can keep being my wife.” Ethan said it in the dark, with a chilling calm that froze me far more than any confession ever could.

The next morning, the financial press had a field day.

WALL STREET JOURNAL: Vance Global Executive Ousted Amid Multi-Million Dollar Embezzlement Scandal.

NEW YORK POST: Billionaire's Daughter Masterminds Downfall of Unfaithful Husband.

By noon, the legal dominoes were falling faster than Ethan could comprehend.

Alexander and I sat in his office, watching a live news report on television. Federal marshals had officially executed seizure warrants at Chloe’s parents' home in Ohio and her brother's tech firm. Both properties were placed under federal seal pending trial.

Chloe herself had been detained at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago while attempting to board a one-way flight to Dubai with two suitcases filled with designer handbags and luxury watches Ethan had bought her. She was currently being held on suspicion of receiving stolen property and conspiracy to commit wire fraud.

"She tried to flee the country," Alexander laughed, tossing a copy of the police report onto his desk. "Ethan's legal team is trying to work out a plea deal with the District Attorney, but the DA is pushing for a mandatory six-year prison sentence."

"What about the stolen funds?" I asked.

"Vance Global’s insurance policy covered the immediate losses to the investment fund," Alexander explained. "And once the court liquidates the seized real estate and shell assets, every penny Ethan took will be returned directly to your family's trust."

Right on cue, my private phone rang. It was an unknown number from a local jail holding facility.

I pressed answer and put it on speaker.

"Mabel?" Ethan’s voice rasped through the static line. He sounded completely broken, exhausted, and terrified. "Mabel... please don't hang up."

"What do you want, Ethan?" I asked neutrally.

"My lawyer says... he says if you sign a victim impact waiver, the judge might grant me probation instead of state prison," Ethan whimpered, his voice cracking into pathetic sobs. "Please, Mabel. I'm terrified. They have me in a holding cell with twelve people. I can't survive in prison."

I listened to his desperate begging without a single ripple of emotion.

"Do you know what I was doing for the three years you were in Chicago, Ethan?" I asked softly into the receiver.

Ethan went quiet. "What?"

"I was eating dinner alone every single night," I said. "I was maintaining our home, taking care of your elderly parents when they were sick, and waiting by the phone just to hear your voice for five minutes. I sacrificed three years of my youth for a man who was spending my inheritance on another woman."

"I'm sorry..." Ethan whispered weakly. "I'm so sorry..."

"You aren't sorry you hurt me, Ethan," I said firmly. "You're just sorry you got caught. Enjoy your six years."