He Slept With Her In My House I Made It His Worst Mistake Chapter 06

He Slept With Her In My House I Made It His Worst Mistake Chapter 06

Chloe handed me her statement the next day.

Handwritten. Four pages.

The timeline was clear.

Late March, Bradley added her and said, “You’ve been doing great this quarter. I can put in a good word for you with management.”

Early April. Their first dinner. Afterward, he said, “Things aren’t good with my wife. We’re in the middle of a divorce.”

Mid-April. The first time he took her to Lakeside Vista. He told her, “This is my place. Once the divorce is finalized, it’ll be mine alone.”

May. Chloe moved in. She paid three thousand a month in “rent.”

June. Bradley told her, “I make thirty thousand a month. I don’t need your three thousand, but if you’re living here, it’s only fair.”

Four pages. Every entry had a date. Every line was something Bradley said himself.

I made three copies.

One for my lawyer. One for myself One… for later.

When it came to hiring a lawyer, I didn’t reach out to any “old classmates” in the field.

I went straight to firm websites, checked rankings for family law attorneys, made three calls, and picked one. Then I scheduled a consultation.

His name was Julian Vance.

Mr. Vance reviewed everything I brought. The deed. Bank statements. Chloe’s written statement. Door lock entry logs. Screenshots of Bradley’s chats with Mark. Instagram messages between Bradley and Chloe.

He spent twenty minutes going through it all.

Then he nodded. “This is more than enough.”

“What does that mean?”

The property is your premarital asset. Paid in full. Clean title. He has no proof of shared payments. The house won’t be part of any division in the divorce.”

“He committed infidelity during the marriage. You have spending records and a witness statement. That strengthens

your position for a more favorable settlement. I recommend filing for asset preservation as well. Freeze any joint

accounts.”

“Can we do that now?”

He nodded. “I can file today.”

“Do it.”

He handed me the documents. I signed.

Then he said, “Ms. Rhodes, you came prepared.”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

He raised a brow.

I let out a quiet breath. “I just don’t like wasting time.”

My plan was simple.

Let the lawyer handle the legal process. Quiet divorce. Clean break. He walks away with nothing. No drama. No involvement from either family. No public spectacle.

Clean. Efficient.

That was the plan.

But someone wasn’t going to let me stick to it.