My Fiancé Spent My Money on His Mistress

They arrived at noon on the fourth day.

I was in the library when the gate guard called the house. My father answered. I watched his face shift from neutral to something colder.

"Tell them to wait," he said. Then he hung up and looked at me. "Arthur and Hadassah are at the gate."

My mother set down her teacup. "I'll handle this."

"We'll both handle it," my father said.

I stood. "I'm coming too."

My mother started to protest. I shook my head.

"I'm coming."

We walked to the front entrance together. Through the window, I could see the gate. The Dixons' Mercedes was parked just outside. Arthur stood beside it in a navy suit. Hadassah wore cream. Pearls at her throat. Like they were here for brunch.

My father opened the door. Walked down the steps. My mother and I followed.

The gate guard looked uncertain. My father nodded to him. The guard opened the gate.

Arthur smiled. Relieved. Grateful.

"Franklin," he said warmly. "Thank God. I was worried you wouldn't see us."

My father didn't smile back. "You have five minutes."

Arthur's smile faltered. He glanced at Hadassah. She stepped forward.

"Valentina," she said softly. Her eyes were damp. "Please. As a mother. You understand. Our children—they've been together for ten years. Surely we can find a way past this. For their sake."

My mother's face didn't change. "There is no 'their sake,' Hadassah. There's only my daughter. And your son destroyed her."

Hadassah flinched. "It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. But Raiden loves Selena. He always has. He's devastated. He's—"

"He's a liar." My father's voice was quiet. Flat. "And you're here because your family's finances depend on mine."

Arthur's face went red. "Franklin, that's—"

"Accurate," my father finished. "You've been invoking our friendship for years. Using it to secure favorable contracts. Extended credit. Preferential terms. All because you assumed Raiden would marry Selena and make it permanent."

Arthur opened his mouth. Closed it.

"The engagement is over," my father continued. "Which means the business relationship is over. Effective immediately."

"You can't do that." Arthur's voice got sharp. Desperate. "We have contracts. Legal agreements. You can't just—"

"I can. And I am." My father looked at him. Not angry. Just done. "The friendship you're trying to invoke ended the moment your son chose to treat my family as a resource to be exploited. You're not here because you care about Selena. You're here because you're afraid of what happens when the Kennedy Group stops propping up Dixon Holdings."

Silence.

Hadassah turned to my mother. Reached for her hand. "Valentina. Please. We've known each other for years. Our families—"

My mother stepped back. "Our families are no longer connected."

Hadassah's face crumpled. Real tears now. Or performed ones. I couldn't tell anymore.

"You're making a mistake," Arthur said. His voice was cold now. The charm was gone. "You'll regret this, Franklin. When you've had time to calm down and think clearly—"

"I am calm," my father said. "And I'm thinking very clearly. You need to leave now."

He gestured to the security guards standing nearby. They moved forward.

Arthur's face went white. Then red again. "This is insane. We're not criminals. We're—"

"You're trespassing," my father said. "Leave. Or I'll have you removed."

The guards were beside them now. Professional. Silent.

Hadassah looked at my mother one more time. A final appeal. Mother to mother.

My mother had already turned toward the house.

Arthur grabbed Hadassah's arm. Pulled her back toward the car. His face was twisted with rage and humiliation.

They got in. The engine started. The car reversed down the drive and disappeared beyond the gate.

The guard closed it. Locked it.

My father put his hand on my shoulder. "Let's go inside."

---

I called Marcus Webb that afternoon.

"I want a full audit," I said. "Every Kennedy Group partnership, investment, and contract involving Dixon Holdings. Everything."

"Understood," Marcus said. "How far back?"

"Ten years."

Silence on the line. Then: "I'll assemble a team. We'll work around the clock."

"Thank you."

I hung up.

My father was watching me from across the library. "You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure."

He nodded. "Then let's do it right."

---

The audit took seventy-two hours.

Marcus called me at midnight on the third day. I was still awake. I hadn't been sleeping much.

"You need to see this," he said.

I drove to the Kennedy Group headquarters at one in the morning. Marcus was waiting in the conference room. Papers covered the table. Spreadsheets. Contracts. Highlighted sections everywhere.

"How bad?" I asked.

Marcus looked tired. "Worse than I expected. The Dixons have been operating on Kennedy credit for years. Inflated contracts. Extended payment terms. Favorable deal structures that make no business sense unless you assume the families were merging."

He slid a summary sheet toward me. Numbers in red.

"Millions," he said quietly. "They've extracted millions over the past decade. And their company—without Kennedy support, Dixon Holdings is insolvent. They've been one bad quarter away from bankruptcy for years."

I looked at the numbers. Felt nothing.

"Terminate everything," I said.

Marcus nodded. "I'll draft the documents."

"I'll sign them myself."

---

It took another seventy-two hours to execute.

I sat in my father's office—my office now, he'd insisted—and signed every termination document. Every credit freeze. Every contract dissolution.

Marcus brought them in stacks. I worked through them methodically. One signature after another.

My hand didn't shake.

When it was done, Marcus gathered the papers. "These go out today. Dixon Holdings will feel it immediately."

"Good," I said.

He paused at the door. "Selena. This will destroy them. Completely. Their investors will pull out. Their creditors will call in debts. The company will collapse within weeks."

I looked up at him. "I know."

He nodded slowly. Then left.

I sat alone in the office. The sun was setting outside. The city looked gold and cold.

Somewhere out there, Raiden Dixon was about to lose everything.

Just like I had.

Except I was still standing.