My Assistant Cried Rape And Named My Husband — But My Husband Is A Robot Chapter 08
After Chloe was taken away, the police moved on Kyle that same night.
His phone pinged from an underground poker room in the south end of the city.
At 3:40 a.m., the SWAT arrest team kicked in the door.
Kyle was in the middle of eating, hands greasy, a half-bottle of whiskey on the table.
Even face-down on the ground, he was mouthing off.
“I was just fooling around with my own girlfriend—that a crime? You’ve got no right to arrest me!”
At the station, the detective slapped down the arrest documentation for extortion and false accusation.
Then he played the recording from my dashcam. Start to finish.
Kyle’s face collapsed in a heartbeat.
All the swagger evaporated. He shrank into his chair, eyes darting.
Inside ten minutes, he was giving it up.
“She made me do it! It was all Chloe’s idea! She said her boss was loaded. She said I just had to play along, and we’d get some real money out of it. She planned every step. I just did what she told me.”
“That night, she was the one who told me to wait under her building. All I had to do was drag her to a spot without cameras and make it look like an assault.”
He was rolling now.
“She said afterward she’d file a report, blame her boss’s husband, and squeeze her for a settlement. We were going to try for two million…”
The detective looked at him coldly.
“And the DNA? How do you explain the fluid recovered from her body?”
Kyle scratched the back of his head, and delivered a line that made everyone in the room go silent.
“Uh… a couple messing around in private, that’s not illegal, right?”
I heard about this later, from Officer Bennett. He said everyone present had felt physically sick.
These two—for a payout—had been willing to do even this.
The next morning, Chloe and Kyle were placed in adjacent interrogation rooms.
When Chloe learned Kyle had confessed to everything, she completely lost it.
She threw herself against her door and lunged at Kyle the moment it opened, her nails raking three bloody lines down his face.
“Kyle Brennan, you spineless coward! You were the one who wanted to do it in the first place!”
Kyle threw up a hand and shoved her back.
“Get off me! I’m going to prison alone, I’m not dragging you with me!”
The two of them tangled in the corridor, screaming curses at each other for a full ten solid minutes.
The louder they got, the more they spilled—every rotten little skeleton came tumbling out.
Chloe embezzling from petty cash: exposed.
Kyle stealing cars to cover gambling debts: exposed.
Chloe faking a Stanford diploma to land the job: also exposed.
Officers stood around watching. A few frowned in disgust. Others stayed blank-faced, taking notes.
An ugly, cannibalistic spectacle.
I didn’t stay to watch.
That morning I gave my final sworn statement in the detective’s office.
After the interview, the detective stood up and gave me a solemn nod.
“Ms. Lane. I owe you a sincere apology. The department will issue a formal statement of exoneration.”
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