From A Humiliating Bet To The Boss He Can’t Have Chapter 10
The sender’s name said Mara Ellis, but the email address was off by a single letter. The messages repeatedly asked to add expensive features and even deliberately hinted that the costs could be covered by the Whitmore family fund.
Every email’s IP address traced back to the private club Sloane frequented.
The earliest one had been sent three weeks before the engagement party.
Which meant she had planned all of this long in advance.
First, she impersonated me and created a lavish wedding wish list. Then she showed it to everyone and painted me as a woman coveting the family fortune.
Grant shoved the tablet in front of Sloane.
“You still want to say this was for my own good?”
The color vanished from her face.
Just then, Grant’s phone rang.
The number was unfamiliar, but the caller ID had a Chicago area code.
He picked it up almost immediately.
There were two quiet seconds on the line before my voice came through, cool and tired.
“Grant, I’m calling from my office line because you keep contacting my boss and my lawyer.”