I didn’t feel like crying anymore; I felt a strange, surgical calm. I realized the house hadn’t just caught fire by accident; Dorian had been pouring gasoline in every corner while I was sleeping.
I spent the day changing every password and filing a formal police report for grand larceny. When I finally pulled back into my driveway, I found Dorian standing there with his mother, Lydia.
Lydia was dressed in a sharp blazer and pearls, wearing that expression of a woman who believed her son was a king who could do no wrong. “That is quite enough of this drama,” she said the moment I stepped out of the truck. “Dorian says you are fabricating lies because you are jealous.”
I looked at Dorian, who was now sober and wearing a mask of cold fury. “Your son stole my family ring and tried to embezzle twenty-eight thousand dollars from my company,” I told her.
Lydia didn’t even flinch. “You have no proof of any criminal intent, Skylar.”
Dorian took a step toward me, his ego finally overriding his common sense. “You owe me that money for all the time I invested in this pathetic relationship!”
I stared him down until he blinked. “Invested? You mean the rent you skipped? Or the groceries I paid for? Or the money you tried to steal while I was in the next room?”
His face went pale as he realized Lydia couldn’t protect him from the paper trail I now held in my hands.
Three days later, the financial crimes unit discovered that Summit Peak Holdings wasn’t even Dorian’s company. The legal owner was actually Lydia.
She hadn’t just been defending her son; she was the one who had set up the shell company to receive the stolen funds. It turned out that Dorian had a history of this, moving from city to city and leaving a trail of broken hearts and empty bank accounts.
By the end of the month, the District Attorney had enough to charge them both with identity theft and conspiracy to commit fraud. The real estate firm where Dorian worked fired him immediately after their own audit showed he had been skimming from client deposits as well.
He tried one last desperate move at a professional mixer in downtown Phoenix where he thought he could still charm his way into a new job. I showed up with Brianna and a plainclothes detective.
When he saw me, he had the audacity to smile. “Skylar, you look incredible tonight.”
“Save the talk for the deposition,” I replied.