Ella

My hands are shaking as I dial Kate’s number. Have I ever been this angry? If I have I certainly can’t remember it now.

“Hello?” Kate answers almost immediately, using a sickly sweet tone that screams of fakeness.

“Kate?” I state bluntly. “Are you with Mike right now?”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, before she weakly responds, “What? Of course not.”

“Come off it Kate, do you really think I don’t know about your s**t?” I demand. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Ella listen–” She begins, obviously gearing up to give me some sort of excuse.

“No, I don’t even care about your little affair anymore – but I need to talk to him right now.” I declare fiercely.

There’s another pause, and then Kate’s voice drops its innocent tone. “You don’t care?” She repeats, sounding truly shocked. “ You know I’m already pregnant?”

I wasn’t prepared for that particular piece of news. I clench my hands into fists, feeling so furious I think I might actually break the phone with my tight grip, “And what, you think that’s some sort of victory?” I bite.

sharply, “because a man who’s so afraid of responsibility that he’d poison me

loves me, he

considering what a bastard he truly is. How do you think he’s going to support you and

tell you about it because he didn’t want you to bleed him dry. He’s a stock

“Poor, gullible, stupid Kate. He’s as much a stock broker as I

talk to me like that! He’s got money, he lavishes it on me all the time!” She

cards he took out in my name!”

“What?” She squeaks.

if I were you, I’d check your own credit

weakly, “you’re

getting thick with emotion now, but I can’t help it. “And frankly I don’t really care what happens to you Kate, but if you’re really

I start crying, not giving her a chance to respond. Why did I buy his lies about looking for work for so

ever let

to get my revenge on Mike, but first I’ve got to try and salvage what’s left of my life. I have to go to the police and see if I can resolve these financial issues… I can’t

but if your ex-partner has left the area, there’s not much we can do about this.” The police officer breaks this news to me about as gently as he

never treat my case with so little consideration or respect if I wasn’t an impoverished nanny. If I was a wealthy man like Dominic Sinclair, he’d be fawning at my feet, offering to go to any lengths to solve my problems. I storm out of the

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