Two hours later, Daniel called.
His credit card had been declined.
His voice was shaking.
“What happened to the money?”
“I moved it,” I said.
“That’s our money!”
“No,” I replied. “It’s my inheritance.”
Silence.
Then panic.
Then excuses.
Then apologies.
I told him I knew everything.
The penthouse.
Olivia.
The baby.
The lies.
“You’re my home,” he said desperately.
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