The Sister Who Stole My Life and the Husband Who Paid the Price
“I pushed him away,” she said. “I told him if he ever did it again, I’d go straight to the board.”
“And he didn’t like that,” I said.
“He smiled,” Melanie said. “That cold, empty smile he has when he thinks he’s already won.”
She took a sip of her lukewarm coffee.
“The very next morning, my keycard didn’t work at the lobby elevator,” she said. “When I called HR, they told me I had been terminated for gross misconduct.”
“Just like that?” I asked.
“Just like that,” she said. “He had spent the night logging into the system using my credentials. He planted forged emails that made it look like I was selling client data to our competitors.”
I felt a sick wave of familiarity.
That was Lucas’s specialty—creating a digital paper trail that looked flawless to anyone who didn’t know how to look closer.
“They escorted me out of the building with my things in a cardboard box,” Melanie said. “I was too humiliated to fight it. I didn’t even realize what else he had done until the collection agencies started calling.”