He Ordered 200 Lashes for Me to Please His Mistress—Five Minutes Later, He Lost Everything

Julian blocked the hallway.

"Get out of my home."

The man didn't blink. "Daniel Cross, Arden Family Security. We have authorization from the property owner."

Julian laughed once, too loudly. "Property owner? I own this penthouse."

Daniel held up a tablet. "The unit is held by Northstar Residential Trust. Your occupancy ended four minutes ago."

"Elena, can you walk?" Daniel asked.

My real name landed between us: Elena Arden.

I nodded, then nearly collapsed.

Daniel caught me before I hit the floor. The medic stepped in.

Julian grabbed Daniel's shoulder.

Bad idea.

Daniel pinned Julian's wrist to the wall.

"Touch her again," Daniel said quietly, "and you will spend the rest of tonight explaining broken fingers to a judge."

"Get off me!"

"Then stop reaching."

Selene moved toward her purse. "Leave it," I said.

"The blue purse was bought with company money. So were your shoes, your watch, and the apartment Julian keeps for you downtown. Those are evidence now."

Julian jerked free. "You're lying."

"No. You did that part for me."

For eleven months, I had saved invoices, photographed wire instructions, and copied expense reports. I needed proof that would survive Julian's lawyers.

Daniel handed me a small evidence bag. "Your phone. Keep it on."

I looked at him.

Julian noticed. "What is that?"

I pressed the side button twice.

A recording app opened.

Julian went still.

"You recorded us?"

"Not all of it," I said. "Only the part where you explained there were no cameras, no staff, no witnesses, and how you planned to frame me."

Selene's mouth fell open.

Julian lunged for the phone.

Daniel stepped between us.

Then my screen lit with a new text from an unknown number.