Chapter 1

Three days after I got the divorce papers, my ex-husband showed up at my door with the police and said I had embezzled eight million from his company during our marriage.

“Babe, just take the blame for now. I promise I’ll get you out within three months.”

When he said that, his voice was gentle, just as sincere as when he proposed.

But I was no longer his wife.

And I was definitely not that fool who would take the fall for him.

Right in front of the police, I opened the recording app on my phone.

“First, we’re already divorced. Second, your company’s financial seal is in your safe, and I never touched it. Third—”

I looked at the woman standing behind him. She was six months pregnant, and her face had gone paper-white.

“Is this your new girl? Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to go to prison for you?”

The air in the living room felt completely drained.

Two officers were standing by the entryway, and the older one had already started writing in his incident report.

My ex-husband, Dylan Reed, froze for a fraction of a second, then put on that usual helpless smile.

“Officers, you saw it. This is just how she is,” he said with a sigh. “There was an eight-million gap in my company’s accounts. The finance department found that she handled the transfers. I wanted to settle this privately, since we were married once—”

“Ex-husband and ex-wife.”

I cut him off.

Dylan paused, and his eyes darkened.

“Right, ex-husband and ex-wife.” He ground out the words like they hurt. “But the transfers happened while we were still married.”

The officer looked at me.

“Lily Reed, right? Dylan Reed reported that while you were working at his company, you transferred eight million in company funds in three separate transactions. What do you have to say about that?”

I didn’t answer right away.

First I saved the recording on my phone, then I took a folder out of the coffee table drawer.

“Officer, can I sit down to talk? My foot still hasn’t healed.”

That was the truth.

Three days ago, the day I went to get the divorce papers, I fell down the steps outside the civil affairs office, and my right ankle swelled up like a steamed bun.

Dylan had been standing right beside me back then, watching me fall, and he didn’t help.

Because he was in a hurry to pick up that woman.

“Go ahead and sit.” The older officer nodded.

I sat on the couch and placed the folder on my lap.

“The three transfers Dylan mentioned were real. I did process them.”

Dylan’s eyes lit up.

“But—”

I looked at him and said slowly, “He was the one who told me to do it.”

The light in his face died before it could even fully bloom.

“Lily, you—”

“Who to send it to, how much to send, and when to send it were all his instructions.” I went on. “The financial seal was with him, and so was the banking token. I was just the one doing the work.”

“Do you have proof?” the younger officer asked.

I pulled three photocopies of the transfer slips out of the folder.

“Every time I made a transfer, he signed the approval form. His signature and the company seal are on it.”

Dylan’s expression changed.

He wanted to step forward, but the younger officer raised a hand to stop him.

“Where did you get these?” Dylan asked in a low voice.

“I handled the transfers. Of course I kept copies. What’s the problem?”

“You—”

“Mr. Reed, please don’t talk yet.” The older officer took the slips, glanced at them, then looked up at Dylan. “Are these three signatures yours?”

Dylan stared at the paper, his throat bobbing.

“Yes... but when I signed, the amount field was blank.”

“So the signature is yours?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then did you know that, as the company’s legal representative, signing a blank approval form is already a management failure?”

Dylan was speechless.

He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles went white.

I looked at him and felt nothing.

A year ago, when he first asked me to help him “bridge” company funds, he had made the same face.

Back then he said, “Babe, just move three million. I’ll pay it back next week. If you won’t help me, who will?”

I helped him.

Three million, repaid.

Then five million, also repaid.

Every time it was “next week,” “next month,” “by the end of the year.”

Until three months ago, when he asked me to move eight million and said this would be the last time.

I said the company didn’t have that much liquid cash.

He said it was fine, to move it from the reserve fund.

I said the reserve fund was for emergencies.

He said this was the emergency.

Then he disappeared for three days, not answering calls and not replying on SnapChat.

I went to his company and found that his office had a new assistant.

She was twenty-three, her last name was Walker, and she was already four months pregnant.

That was when I finally understood that all those “I’ll pay it back next week” promises had never gone into the company’s projects.

Where had they gone?

To support another family.