Chapter 4

On day seven, I went to Michael's house.

The purpose was simple: to test Ruth.

Before retirement, Ruth had been a department store floor manager. Sharp as they come.

Michael's entire social life was arranged by her. Even what we ate on our first date—she decided that.

She said Michael was shy and needed her help.

That afternoon, Ruth was cutting fruit in the kitchen while I flipped through photo albums on the coffee table in the living room.

"What do you think about this dessert table for the reception? Should we switch to this two-tier one?"

"Sure, whatever you think."

I changed the subject: "By the way, Michelle said she wants to read something at the wedding. What do you think?"

"Michelle?" Ruth's knife paused.

"Yeah, she's my best friend."

Ruth didn't turn around, continued cutting fruit.

"Well... you decide."

There was a hint of discomfort in her tone.

I continued: "I think Michelle's dating someone. Did you know?"

Ruth's knife finally stopped.

She turned to look at me, her smile somewhat stiff.

"How would I know about that? You young people and your business."

Her right index finger rubbed against the back of the knife.

I'd known Ruth for three years. That gesture meant she was nervous.

"Sophia, the fruit's ready. Take it over."

She changed the subject, but her reaction had already given me the answer.

She knew.

That evening, I left Michael's house early, sat in my car, and called Natasha.

Natasha was my other college roommate, now working at a law firm.

"Natasha, I need you to help me check something."

"What?"

"The names on the purchase contract for Michael's and my wedding apartment."

"You don't know?" Natasha's voice paused.

"I put down seventy percent of the down payment, but Ruth took the contract the day we signed. She said she'd keep it safe for us."

Natasha was silent for three seconds.

"Sophia, hold on."

The next afternoon, Natasha sent me the search results.

Only one name on the purchase contract: Michael.

Out of the two-million-one-hundred-thousand down payment, I'd contributed one million five hundred thousand.

But my name wasn't on the deed—and I'd always thought both our names were on it.

Because the day we signed, I watched Michael write down my name with my own eyes.

But what did Ruth do after "safekeeping the contract"?

I didn't know, but I could guess.

That night I couldn't sleep.

Not because of anger, not because of sadness.

Because I was thinking about one thing: how long had they been scheming against me?

From the very beginning?

From the day Michael met me through Michelle?

At 2 AM, I pulled up our chat history from three years ago.

Back then, Michelle had enthusiastically introduced Michael to me.

"Sophia! I have a classmate who's perfect for you! Handsome, good family background, works as an analyst at a financial firm!"

That message was from three years and seven months ago.

And Michelle's secondary phone card activation date—I'd checked it yesterday—was three years and nine months ago.

They'd been together two months before Michael and I got together.

In other words, Michael was with Michelle first, then met me through Michelle.

And Michelle personally introduced her own boyfriend to me.

Why? The answer was in the first transaction on Michael's secondary card.

Three years ago, Michael's first secondary card purchase was at a high-end club.

Note: Sergio's welcome banquet.

Sergio is my dad.

This relationship was a business transaction from day one.