I Caught My Fiancé Paying My Estranged Sister’s Rent—Then Found the Ultrasound in His Glovebox.

Carter was at my kitchen table within forty-five minutes, three laptops and two portable hard drives spread across the surface.

"Marcus is sloppy," Carter said after twenty minutes of furious typing. "He thought he was being clever using shell LLCs registered in Delaware under your maiden name."

I choked on my tea. "My maiden name?"

Carter spun his laptop screen around. "Look at this. Vance Consulting Group. He’s been moving client retainers through this account to avoid paying taxes, then routing payments straight to the Sterling High-Rise lease and a private jewelry brokerage."

"He put my name on tax fraud?" The chill that ran down my spine was freezing.

"If the IRS audits him today, you take the fall," Carter said bluntly. "He set you up as the primary managing member. He signed your signature electronically."

"He wanted me trapped," I whispered. "If I found out and tried to leave, he could threaten to turn the LLC over to the feds and take me down with him."

"Exactly. But he made one fatal mistake," Carter smiled, a sharp, predatory grin. "He used his own corporate email server to verify the routing transactions. The IP logs tie directly to his work desk."

Suddenly, the front door rattled. Heavy footsteps echoed down the foyer.

"Chloe!" Marcus’s voice boomed through the house. "Open the damn door! We need to settle this right now!"

Carter closed his laptop quietly. "Don't let him know we have the logs yet."

I stood up, walked to the hallway, and watched Marcus barge in, his tie undone, eyes bloodshot, clutching a folder of legal documents.

"Sit down," Marcus demanded, slamming the folder on the table next to Carter. "You’re signing a non-disclosure agreement, Chloe. Or tomorrow morning, your name goes to the state ethics board."

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The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.