Chapter 7 - The Hidden Mistress
The rain in Boston on Thursday evening fell in heavy, gray sheets, turning the harbor into a boiling cauldron of slate and white foam.
In a nondescript glass-and-steel building in the Seaport District—just six blocks from my penthouse—Nathan stood inside the lobby of the *Aura Luxury Lofts*.
He had spent the last six hours dodging calls from reporters. The incident at St. Jude's had already hit the local private-school gossip blogs, and rumors of his termination from Sterling & Cole were spreading through the financial district like wildfire.
He had one card left to play.
*Chloe.*
Chloe Bennett was supposed to be his fresh start. She was young, gorgeous, ambitious, and utterly captivated by his stories of high-stakes corporate acquisitions. Over the past year, Nathan had lavished her with expensive jewelry, paid the lease on her luxury two-bedroom loft, and promised her that once his mother was settled and his equity cleared, he would leave Caroline and make Chloe the queen of Boston’s young elite.
Nathan rode the elevator to the twelfth floor, his heart hammering against his ribs. He pulled his keycard from his wallet and swiped the lock of Unit 1204.
The door clicked open.
The apartment was warm, scented with expensive Diptyque fig candles. Upbeat pop music played softly from the surround-sound speakers. In the open-concept kitchen, Chloe stood by the marble island, pouring a glass of Pinot Grigio. She was dressed in an oversized cashmere sweater and leggings, looking radiant and effortless.
"Chloe, thank God," Nathan breathed, closing the door behind him and locking it. He dropped his damp coat onto the bench. "It’s been a bloodbath. Caroline has gone completely psychotic. She ambushed me at the office, she harassed my mother—"
Chloe turned around slowly. Her warm smile vanished, replaced by a cool, assessing look that made Nathan’s stomach drop.
On the island next to her wine glass sat two thick manila envelopes, both stamped with the red wax seal of the Suffolk County Sheriff's Department.
"Nathan," Chloe said, her voice flat, devoid of the breathless admiration she usually offered. "What are these?"
Nathan swallowed hard, stepping toward the kitchen. "What is what, babe?"
"These are legal eviction notices, Nathan," Chloe said, pointing a manicured nail at the envelopes. "And a freeze order on the lease account. The building management just knocked on my door. They told me this unit is leased under an entity called Vance-Monroe Corporate Living, and that the lease guarantor has revoked all access effective tonight."
"Chloe, listen to me—"
"Is it true?" she cut in, her voice rising, sharp and shrill. "Are you not a partner at Sterling & Cole?"
Nathan flinched. "I was! There’s an internal restructuring—"
"Were you fired for stealing?"
"No! It was an accounting dispute over my discretionary bonus!"
Chloe let out a harsh, mocking laugh that sounded terrifyingly similar to Caroline’s cold dismissals. "An accounting dispute? Nathan, the managing partner himself called me this afternoon! He said you don't have a dime! He said you’ve been using your wife’s trust money to pay for this apartment, for my Cartier bracelets, for the entire launch party of my events agency!"
"Chloe, I did that for *us*!" Nathan cried, reaching across the island to grab her hands. "I did it so we could build an empire together! We don't need Caroline's money! I have talent! I have connections! We can move to New York, start over—"
Chloe pulled her hands back as if he were covered in venom. "Move to New York with what, Nathan? With your three maxed-out personal credit cards? With your ruined reputation?"
"You love me!" Nathan shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "You told me I was the only man who ever truly understood your vision!"
"I loved the man who had a twenty-million-dollar fund behind him!" Chloe yelled back, stepping away from the island. "I loved the man who was going to introduce me to the board of the Institute of Contemporary Art! I didn't sign up to be the mistress of an unemployed, disgraced freeloader living off his dead predecessor's trust fund!"
Nathan stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, every illusion, every lie he had constructed to protect his fragile masculinity crumbling into ash.
"You used me," he whispered, his eyes wide with horror.
"You used *me*, Nathan!" Chloe shot back. "You used me to feel powerful because your wife had you by the throat! You used me to play the big, rich businessman while you were taking an allowance like a schoolboy!"
She walked over to the front door and pulled it wide open.
"Get out, Nathan."
"Chloe, please... I have nowhere to go," he pleaded, his knees trembling. "My mother’s place is being cleared out by movers tomorrow. I don't even have a hotel room."
"Then go sleep in your mother’s car," Chloe said coldly. "Because if you aren't out of this hallway in thirty seconds, I’m calling building security and having you arrested for harassment."
Nathan looked at the woman he had risked his marriage, his career, and his freedom for. She looked back at him with nothing but pure, unadulterated contempt.
He turned, grabbed his damp coat, and walked out into the corridor.
The door slammed shut behind him, the deadbolt engaging with a heavy, final *thud*.
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Nathan stood alone under the fluorescent lights of the hallway, the sound of the rain lashing against the building's exterior windows, completely and utterly bankrupt.
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