Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,92

was because it was for work and the company paid for everything?”

“A lot of people get themselves in trouble. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No, in my case, I’m absolutely ashamed of it.” Tears overflowed her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “My ex-boyfriend did this to me, and I was stupid enough to let it happen. He took out loans and opened credit cards in my name. Tons of them. He maxed them out and then stuck me with all of it, and I didn’t know until it was too late. By then, he’d already ghosted me. Not long after he disappeared, bill collectors started calling. Constantly. It’s been a total nightmare for the last three years. And it’s all because I trusted him when I shouldn’t have. So no, I didn’t tell you, for the same reason I’ve never told anyone—not my dad or my friends. Because it’s humiliating.”

Broken glass glinted on the kitchen floor. I had no idea what to say to her.

“I didn’t take your money.” She took a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to prove to you that I didn’t, but I would never, ever do something like that. God, I wouldn’t even know how.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted it so fucking badly. But why would Althea accuse her if she wasn’t sure?

“The dates your loans were paid off are all when I was out of town. When you were here, with access to my office. And one of my debit cards is missing. The same debit card that someone’s been using to make withdrawals at ATMs near your office.”

She tucked the envelope in her handbag and pulled out her phone. “Here, I’ll show you. This is one of the credit card accounts and the balance is still…” Her brow furrowed. “How is that possible?”

“It’s paid off, isn’t it? Goddammit, Sophie, just be fucking honest with me.”

“How did…” She stared at her phone. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it wasn’t me.”

I didn’t want Althea to be right. But she’d handed me the evidence. And Sophie didn’t have an explanation, other than I didn’t do it.

She put her phone away and met my gaze, her eyes still shining with tears. “You actually think I’m capable of this.”

“No, I don’t, but what the fuck am I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to believe me. I’m your—” She snapped her mouth shut, but her unspoken word sliced through me.

I’m your wife.

“Sophie—”

“No. I’m not and I never was. I should have remembered that.” She pulled a large manila envelope out of her handbag and set it on the counter. “I don’t even know if I should give this to you. But if I didn’t, it would just be to hurt you back, and I don’t want to be that girl. Dominic Coates met with Mr. Calloway today. He set up the meeting to find out what Dominic’s been doing behind your back. We got these from him. He’s working with Althea. They’re going to try to take your company so they can sell Skyline. I’m sorry I was right about her. I didn’t want to be.”

Grinding my teeth together, I stared at the envelope.

Althea was…

That meant…

Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, Sophie.”

“I can’t really deal with getting all my stuff right now,” she choked out through more tears. “And I’ll get the divorce paperwork done as soon as I can, but I have to go.”

“Sophie, no. Please don’t—”

But she whipped around and ran off. The door slammed behind her.

The crushing weight on my chest was back with a vengeance. What the fuck had I done? I crunched through the broken glass to the envelope she’d left and slid the stack of paperwork out.

For a second, I couldn’t get a breath in. My throat closed tight and my lungs seemed to have collapsed. The words on the pages blurred as I flipped through them.

Goddammit, she was right. Althea had betrayed me.

She’d betrayed Sophie too.

Because who else had access to my home, my office, my computers? Who else had the code to my front door? She did.

She’d set Sophie up. And I was such a fucking idiot, I’d fallen for it.

What the hell was I going to do now?

33

Cox

After Sophie left and I realized I was being fucked over, I did what most any man would do. I got my ass good and drunk.

Oliver found me Tuesday morning passed out on the couch. Drunk or sober, I couldn’t set foot in my bedroom. There was too much of her