Chapter 8: What Simone Said
She suggested a coffee shop near her office.
Neutral ground, she'd said on the phone.
I'd agreed.
Simone Archer was thirty-four, sharp-eyed, and had the composed manner of someone who had already done the hard internal work and arrived at the meeting fully assembled.
She was already seated when I arrived.
She stood briefly, we shook hands, and we sat down.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said.
"I wasn't sure either."
She wrapped both hands around her cup.
"I want to say something first.
I didn't know about you when it started.
I knew he had a girlfriend — he told me things were complicated, that you were more like business partners at that point, that the relationship had been over emotionally for a long time.
I believed him."
"He's good at that," I said.
"He is." She looked at me steadily.
"When I found out the truth — that you were pregnant, that you were engaged, that none of what he'd told me was real — I ended it immediately.
That was ten months ago."
"The bracelet was before that."
Her expression shifted slightly.
"He told you about the bracelet?"
"I found the receipt in Dani's documents.
He confirmed it at dinner."
She was quiet for a moment.
"I gave it back when I ended things.
I left it on his car.
I didn't want anything from him." She paused.
"I don't know what he did with it after that."
"It doesn't matter now." I looked at her.
"Did he ask you for money?"
"Twice.
The first time I said no.
The second time—" She stopped.
"The second time he came to me in what looked like genuine crisis.
The company was going to lose its lease on the server infrastructure, he said.
He had investors lined up but the wire transfer was delayed by three days.
He just needed a bridge.
Eight thousand dollars.
He'd pay it back within the week."
"And?"
"I transferred it.
And then I started paying attention." She reached into her bag and pulled out a thin folder.
"I work in corporate finance.
Once I started looking, it took me about four hours to see what he was doing.
The company had no real infrastructure to lose.
The investors he mentioned don't exist.
The money went directly into his personal account and was spent within forty-eight hours."
She slid the folder across to me.
"I've already sent copies to the investigator," she said.
"But I wanted you to have one too.
Because you're carrying his child.
And because whatever happens legally, you're going to need to make decisions about that separately."
I opened the folder.
Clean, precise documentation.
The transfer.
The account records.
A timeline.
"Why did you reach out to the investigation?" I said.
"Because Dani called me." Simone looked at her cup.
"She'd found me through a financial forum where I'd posted an anonymous question about recovering funds from a fraudulent business loan.
She put it together.
She called me and told me what she knew, and told me about you." She looked up.
"She said you were four months pregnant and about to marry him and that she couldn't live with herself if she stayed quiet."
I thought about Dani's voice on the phone that first afternoon.
*I wish someone had called me.*
"She's a good person," I said.
"She is." Simone paused.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Are you all right?
Not legally.
Not strategically.
Actually all right."
The coffee shop was warm.
Someone at the next table was laughing at something on their phone.
"I don't know yet," I said honestly.
"I'm four months pregnant and the father of my child is probably going to be charged with fraud.
My wedding is in four weeks and I'm going to have to cancel it and call sixty-three people and explain something I don't fully have words for yet." I looked at her.
"But I'm not broken.
I thought I might be.
I'm not."
Simone nodded slowly.
"For what it's worth — you're the one who figured it out.
You're the one who didn't hand over the card.
You're the one who walked out of that room."
"I also drove a heel into his foot."
She looked at me for a moment.
Then she laughed — a real laugh, sudden and unguarded.
I laughed too.
It was the first time in ten days.
My phone buzzed.
I glanced at it.
Not Weston this time.
Grace Ellery.
*Call me when you can.
The full report is ready.
There's something in it you need to see before Friday.*
The laughter faded.
I looked at Simone.
"I have to go," I said.
"I know." She stood when I did.
"Ava — whatever you need.
A statement, a witness, a phone call.
I'm not going anywhere."
I thanked her and walked out into the afternoon.
Grace picked up on the second ring.
"What is it?" I said.
"The property records," Grace said.
"Ava, Weston has been paying rent on a second apartment for fourteen months.
It's registered under a name I didn't recognize at first — a shell LLC.
But the LLC traces back to Corinne."
"A second apartment," I said.
"In your neighborhood.
Four blocks from your house."
I stopped walking.
"Who's been living there?" I said.
May you like
Grace was quiet for exactly one second too long.
"That's what I need you to see," she said.
