Chapter 7: What Chloe Knew
She named a café four blocks from the venue.
I arrived first and took a table near the back.
Twelve minutes later, Chloe walked in still wearing her getting-ready clothes — a pale silk robe over a white dress, her hair half-pinned, mascara not yet applied.
She looked like someone who had run out of a bridal suite without stopping to think about what she was wearing.
She sat down across from me.
She didn't order anything.
"I need you to stop this," she said.
"Good morning, Chloe."
"Please." Her hands were flat on the table.
"I know how this looks.
I know what Julian said in that chat was horrible.
But if the wedding doesn't happen today, everything falls apart.
Not just the day.
Everything."
"Tell me about the trust fund," I said.
She blinked.
"What?"
"You told my family the trust fund couldn't be accessed until after the ceremony.
My attorney has spoken to the fund administrators.
That clause doesn't exist."
The color in her face shifted.
"It's complicated," she said.
"It isn't, actually.
Either the clause exists or it doesn't.
My attorney says it doesn't."
She looked down at the table.
Her hands pressed harder against the surface.
"I didn't want to contribute to the costs because I knew Julian would spend more if I did.
Every time money was available, he upgraded something.
The photographer.
The cake.
The band.
I thought if I said the fund was restricted, it would put a ceiling on things."
"So you let me pay for all of it instead."
"I thought Julian would pay you back." She looked up.
"I genuinely thought that.
He told me he had money coming in.
A deal he was closing.
He said by the time the wedding was over he'd have enough to settle everything with you."
"What deal?"
She hesitated.
"Chloe.
What deal?"
"He was trying to sell his stake in a property," she said.
"A rental unit he co-owns with your father.
He said the buyer was almost ready.
He said the money would come through within sixty days of the wedding."
I was very still.
"Julian co-owns a property with my father."
"A rental unit.
I don't know all the details.
Julian handled it.
He said it was worth around $200,000 and his stake was half."
A hundred thousand dollars.
Julian had a hundred thousand dollars in a property asset, and he had let me spend $110,000 on his wedding while telling me his finances were a disaster.
"He wasn't broke," I said.
"He's asset-rich and cash-poor," Chloe said, as if that were a meaningful distinction.
"He couldn't liquidate it quickly.
That's why he needed you to cover things in the meantime."
"And my father knew this."
She didn't answer.
But she didn't deny it either.
"Your father knew about the property," I said.
"He co-owns it.
He knew Julian had an asset worth six figures.
And he still told you his money was tied up and let you drain your savings."
Chloe looked at me with something I hadn't expected.
Not defiance.
Not calculation.
Something that looked almost like shame.
"I didn't know about the contracts," she said quietly.
"The way they were arranged.
I didn't know my name was on the catering paperwork as event organizer.
Julian handled all of that.
I just signed where he pointed."
"You signed a catering contract."
"I signed a lot of things.
Julian said it was standard.
He said it was just to confirm the menu." She shook her head.
"I didn't read them.
I should have.
I know that."
I looked at her across the table.
The silk robe.
The half-pinned hair.
The mascara she hadn't put on yet because she had run out of a bridal suite to come and beg me to stop.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
She met my eyes.
"Because I think you deserve to know what actually happened.
And because—" She stopped.
Started again.
"Because I'm not sure I want to marry someone who did this to his own sister."
The café was quiet around us.
Someone at the counter ordered a flat white.
The machine hissed.
"That's not something I can decide for you," I said.
"No." She looked down at her hands.
"It isn't."
My phone buzzed on the table.
I looked at the screen.
It was Marcus.
One line:
May you like
*Call me.
The property just got more complicated.*
