t.
A week later, Chloe requested a meeting. Valerie advised against it, but I agreed to see her in the sterile environment of the law office.
Chloe arrived looking exhausted, her designer clothes replaced by sweatpants. Without the glamour of the Sterling wealth blinding her, she looked incredibly young and incredibly foolish.
She slid a thick manila folder across the conference table.
“What is this?” Valerie asked sharply.
“Emails,” Chloe whispered, looking down at her hands. “Alexander asked me to forward internal documents from Madeline’s accounts while she was traveling. Eleanor instructed me on which files to steal. I didn’t understand the legalities then, but I do now.”
I stared at the girl. “Why are you giving this to us?”
Chloe touched her stomach. “Because when the news broke, Alexander told his lawyers he was going to claim I manipulated him into the forgery. He was going to throw me under the bus to save himself.”
I almost laughed. Of course he was. Alexander’s affection always came with an emergency exit strategy.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Madeline,” Chloe cried softly. “I liked feeling chosen by a powerful man. I was stupid.”
I leaned forward. “I don’t forgive you, Chloe. But if this evidence is authentic, testify under oath. Don’t build a life for that baby based on perjury and theft.”
She nodded, breaking down into heavy sobs.
The evidence Chloe provided was the final nail in the coffin. It contained emails where Alexander referred to me as “a liability with a high credit score.” Seeing those words didn’t break my heart; it cauterized the wound forever.
The divorce mediation was short and brutal.
Eleanor attended, wearing black silk like she was mourning the death of a king. She glared at me across the mahogany table.
“You destroyed my son,” Eleanor hissed bitterly.
I looked at the bitter old woman. “No, Eleanor. I just stopped letting him use my spine as a stepping stool.”
