Chapter 1

I asked my husband to oversee the renovation of my parents' retirement condo. Instead, he handed the keys over to our female neighbor.

I hadn't visited the place in six months until today. But the moment I pushed the door open, I couldn't believe my eyes.

Our neighbor, Chloe, strolled out of the master bedroom wearing a silk bathrobe. She smiled at me like she owned the place.

"Hey, Avery, you're here? Ethan told me the place was sitting empty anyway, so he let me and my son move in for now."

Six months ago, my parents handed over a $100,000 buyout check and the keys to their new condo to Ethan and me.

He thumped his chest and swore to them:

"Don't worry, Mom, Dad. Leave it all to me."

I trusted him. I didn't drop by once for half a year.

When Ethan rushed over, he threw an arm around my shoulders and gave me a casual excuse:

"She's a single mom having a rough time. It's just temporary. Don't overthink it."

I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

I just stared at Ethan's hand resting on my shoulder for three solid seconds.

Then I smiled slowly and nodded. "Okay. I trust you."

The second I walked away, I went straight to the bank to print out the bank statements. The moment the printouts slid across the counter, my hands were shaking.

Thirty-five thousand dollars—not a single penny missing—had been wired directly to a shell design firm under her brother's name.

I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.

They wanted to play games with my family's life savings? Fine. I was going to make sure the entire city saw their true, shameless faces.

My husband used my parents' $100,000 retirement nest egg to build a luxury love nest for our neighbor.

Six months ago, my parents handed me a bank card with their $100,000 retirement buyout and the keys to their brand-new condo.

They patted the back of my hand, their eyes shining with hope for the future.

"Avery, hold onto the money and manage the condo for us. We'll work another two years back in our hometown, then move into the city to be close to you and Ethan for our golden years."

My husband, Ethan, chimed in right away. He set down his fork, wiped his mouth, and smoothly took over the conversation with golden promises:

"Don't worry, Mom, Dad. Leave everything to me."

"I do general contracting and remodeling for a living. I guarantee this place will be turnkey perfect. When you move in, all you'll have to do is unpack your bags and relax."

My parents beamed, completely charmed by his sweet talk, praising me for marrying such a caring and devoted husband.

I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. Ethan had always treated me well, and he treated my family even better.

He took the money and the keys, claiming he wanted to surprise my parents, and told me not to visit the site for the next six months.

I believed him.

Six months later, which was today, I carried a bag of groceries and stepped into my parents' condo for the very first time.

I slid the key into the lock. The second the door swung open, I froze.

The renovation was high-end—downright luxurious, even.

Yet it was nothing like the cozy, practical style my parents preferred.

My heart dropped. An unsettling feeling crept up my spine.

Just as I pulled out my phone to call Ethan, a woman walked out of the master bedroom.

She was wearing a slinky silk bathrobe, her hair loosely pinned up, carrying the lazy glow of someone who had just woken up.

It was Chloe, our across-the-hall neighbor.

A self-proclaimed single mom whose husband had allegedly passed away early, leaving her to raise a five-year-old boy alone.

Seeing me, she didn't look startled at all. Instead, she flashed an easy smile.

"Avery, you're here! Ethan mentioned you might drop by today."

"So, what do you think? The renovation turned out gorgeous, didn't it?"

The sheer familiarity and smugness in her voice chilled my blood.

My hands and feet turned icy cold, my fingertips numb. I stared at her, my voice dry and cracked:

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Ethan felt awful seeing me struggle to pay rent as a single mom. Since the condo was sitting empty anyway..."

"He told me to move in with my boy for a bit. We'll move out before your parents get into town."

She said it so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Ethan is truly an angel. He's always looking out for us."

*Felt awful for her? Just staying temporarily?*

Bullshit. This entire condo was custom-made for her.

Ethan rushed in shortly after. Seeing me, his expression twitched with guilt for a fraction of a second before quickly melting into a warm, gentle smile.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, his voice dripping with honey:

"Babe, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Let me explain. Chloe's been having a really tough time on her own. I just figured, since your parents aren't coming anytime soon..."

"Letting her stay keeps the place warm and lived-in."

He pointed at Chloe and pleaded with me, "Look at her, a woman raising a kid all by herself. It's heartbreaking."

Right on cue, Chloe lowered her head, her eyes rimmed with red, looking like she was on the verge of tears.

I didn't say a word. I just dragged my gaze from Ethan's face to Chloe's.

Chloe shifted uncomfortably under my glare, shrinking slightly behind Ethan's back.

Ethan gently rubbed my back, continuing his pitch:

"Don't worry, I made it crystal clear to Chloe. It's strictly temporary. The minute your parents are ready, she packs up and leaves."

"Come on, sweetie. Don't overthink this."

I pulled out of his embrace and gave him a faint smile—one that must have looked uglier than crying.

Ethan visibly exhaled in relief, and Chloe lifted her head.

I didn't explode right then and there.

I dug my nails deep into my palms. The sharp pain forced the blood-curdling scream back down my throat.

I looked at the guilty Ethan and the secretly relieved Chloe, my mind spinning at lightning speed.

If I picked a fight right now, they would double down on the 'innocent misunderstanding' routine, and I would look like the crazy, insecure wife.

Better to play along for a minute.

I uncurled my fists, nodded, and let out a voice so raspy it barely sounded like mine: "Okay. I trust you."

Ethan let out another massive sigh of relief.

Chloe looked up, flashing me a deeply 'grateful' smile.

I didn't look at them again. I turned around and walked out of that suffocating 'new home.'

The second the door clicked shut behind me, every trace of emotion dropped off my face.

Trust?

The moment she stepped out of my parents' bedroom in that silk bathrobe, trust was dead and buried.