It was a week after graduation, and I was killing time scrolling through the Northwood University accepted students’ forum when a title snagged my attention. [My boyfriend got into Northwood, and his personal doormat is buying him a condo.] I frowned, clicking the link. The poster was in our graduating class, same as me and Leo Sterling. I hoped this wasn't going to be about someone we knew. The post continued: [My BF grew up in his doormat’s house, and he’s so sick of her. Getting into Northwood was his ticket out.] [But she’s insisting he’s ‘used to living in a big house’ and that the dorms are too cramped, so she’s buying him a place near campus.] [Question for upperclassmen: is the new development by the East Gate or the one by the West Gate more convenient for freshmen?] [Because this is going to be our little love nest, obviously. ;) ] The sheer, shameless audacity of it all made me laugh. I tapped out a quick reply. [Why not both? I hear freshman year is split pretty evenly between the two sides of campus.] I was about to screenshot it and send it to Leo with a caption like, Get a load of this, when my phone buzzed with a message from him. [Chloe, I was just thinking. I hear the freshman classes are on both sides of campus. Maybe we should just get one place at the East Gate and one at the West.] I stared at my phone. The words blurred. Wait a second. Was I… was I the doormat? 1 Leo Sterling and I grew up in the same house. His parents died in a car crash when he was five, and my father, unable to bear the thought of his best friend’s son going into the system, brought him home to live with us. For more than a decade, I believed we were the most important people in each other’s lives. My own parents had even hinted, more than once, that if we ended up together, the Sanford family fortune would one day be ours to share. But the Leo I knew was cautious and reserved, so mindful of his position that he’d never even dare to reach for a serving dish at the far end of the dinner table. Could that boy be the same person who was letting some girl call me his “doormat” on a public forum? My hand trembled as I clicked back to the thread. The user ID was RainyDaysJess. The profile picture was a selfie of a girl with huge eyes and a pointy chin, the classic Instagram-influencer face. I racked my brain, trying to place her among Leo’s friends. Nothing. The replies were already piling up. [Who’s your boyfriend? Sounds like a big deal!] RainyDaysJess replied: [He’s only the top scorer on the SATs in the entire state! We’ve been together for a month now! <3] A cold fist clenched around my heart. A month? That was right after graduation. For the six months leading up to it, I had been away at a training camp at Northwood, selected as a candidate for the International Math Olympiad team. I had been completely buried in work, and I’d let my check-ins with Leo slide. But would he really do this? It didn’t feel real. I’m not sure, I told myself. Let’s see what else they say. It could be a crazy coincidence. I kept scrolling. [Wait, so your BF lives in the doormat’s house? Isn’t that like, his foster family? Why would you call her that?] RainyDaysJess: [OMG you guys have no idea. His foster sister is SO annoying. She’s obsessed with him and smothers him constantly.] [But her family’s loaded, so my boyfriend says to just let her buy him whatever she wants. It’s not like it’s his money, right? Use it or lose it.] My fingers flew across the keyboard, testing a theory. [If she’s such a good little doormat, why hasn’t she bought him that Patek Philippe watch all the celebrities are wearing? If she hasn’t even done that, she’s not trying very hard.] My phone buzzed again. A new message from Leo. [Chloe? You there? Dad said the condos near Northwood are a great investment. And once you retake your SATs, if you can get into Northwood too, we could even live together.] A second message appeared. [Oh, by the way, my birthday’s coming up, and I saw this watch…] My reply was terse. [What watch?] He sent a picture of a Patek Philippe. The price tag read $28,000. It was the exact one I’d mentioned in the forum. I stared at the message, a bitter, metallic taste flooding my mouth. There was no more uncertainty. The “Dad” he was referring to was my father, Robert Sanford. For eighteen years, my father had treated Leo like his own son. He’d been so careful with Leo’s fragile pride, so conscious of his loss, that he often favored him over me in front of friends and family. I had been admitted to Northwood months ago, a guaranteed spot secured by my gold medal win at the Olympiad. But to keep Leo from feeling pressured or stressed, I’d let my parents tell him I was just taking a six-month "gap semester" to travel. When I won the medal, I asked the school not to publicize it. We wanted to surprise him. So, when I didn't show up for the SATs, Leo naturally assumed I'd slacked off for half a year and given up on college. And now? Now he was planning to move in with another girl while casually asking me for a luxury watch and two condos? Did he really see me as his personal ATM? I took a deep, steadying breath and typed my reply. [Okay.] Then I screenshotted the entire conversation and sent it to my best friend, Maya. Her reply was instantaneous: [HOLY SHIT! That bastard! Leo is really like this?] I typed back, my hands still shaking. [I wish I knew.] Maya: [Hang on. I’m going to find out who this ‘RainyDaysJess’ is.] Ten minutes later, a dossier of information landed in my inbox. [Jessica Raines. Goes to Westwood High, the school across town. Got into Northwood on an arts scholarship. Her parents own a small convenience store. Her Instagram is full of her flexing, but it’s all stolen pictures.] I clicked the link Maya sent. Jessica’s Instagram was a curated fantasy of designer bags, five-star restaurant meals, and exotic vacations. I recognized a few of the photos immediately as generic images from luxury brand websites. And then my stomach turned. She had the audacity to steal one of my photos—a shot I took from my family’s suite at The Empyrean Hotel last Christmas. But the post that made me physically ill was from the day before. It was a picture of her and Leo, their reflections caught in a storefront window. He had his arm around her waist, their hands joined to form a heart. The caption read: [Just a normal day with my genius boyfriend! He spoils me so much!~] Yesterday. The day Leo told me he was out playing basketball with friends and didn't reply to my texts for hours. The trust of eighteen years crumbled into dust. Maya’s text came through again: [Chloe, what are you going to do?] I was silent for a long time. Finally, I replied. [Don’t tip them off. I want to see how far they’re willing to take this.] I deliberately avoided Leo for the next few days. As expected, he got antsy. After three days, he texted me. [Chloe, did you talk to Dad about the condos?] I smirked. [He said it’s a great idea, but we should wait until you’re enrolled and have your class schedule before picking a location.] Leo: [Awesome! I knew I could count on you! By the way, my birthday party is next week. You should come.] For years, I had planned every single one of Leo’s birthday parties. I’d book a private room at his favorite restaurant, invite all his friends, and order his favorite kind of cake. This year, he was inviting me himself. But the phrasing—you should come—felt less like an invitation and more like a handout. Me: [Of course. Where is it?] Leo: [The Empyrean Hotel. I booked a private suite.] The Empyrean? That was one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. A suite there started at five thousand dollars a night. Where did Leo get that kind of money? I feigned surprise. [Wow, that’s fancy!] Leo: [Well, it’s my 18th birthday. A milestone. So, did you get the watch?] I fought back a wave of nausea. [I’m thinking about it.] Leo: [Thanks, Chloe! You’re the best!] As soon as I put my phone down, I called my father. “Dad, Leo asked me for a twenty-eight-thousand-dollar watch.” There was a pause on the other end. “Buy it for him, honey. It’s his eighteenth birthday, after all.” My voice rose, sharp with disbelief. “Dad! You know exactly how much is in my allowance account. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?” My dad sounded genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? I transferred sixty-six thousand dollars into your account last month. Did you already blow through all of it?” My bank card had always been managed by him. He said it was to help me learn financial responsibility, and I never thought to question it. Sixty-six thousand dollars? Leo had never mentioned a word of it to me. Suddenly, I knew exactly how he’d paid for the suite at The Empyrean. But I couldn't let my father know. Not yet. Not until I had undeniable proof that the boy he’d raised with such care was a complete viper. “Oh,” I said, forcing a ditzy tone. “Right, I forgot. Leo’s holding onto it for me. Hey, speaking of which, could you send me a list of all the money you’ve put away for me over the years? I want to see how much I have. It’ll be fun to feel like a rich heiress for a day.” My dad chuckled, the sound warm and indulgent. “Alright, you little tycoon. I’ll have my assistant email you the statements in a bit.” I hung up, my hand shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone. A few minutes later, an email arrived from my father’s assistant. I opened the attached spreadsheet, and my breath caught in my throat. February 2018, Chinese New Year gifts: $12,800 2019 Birthday Gift, wire transfer from Father: $20,000 2020, Competition winnings and allowance: $55,000 2021, High School Graduation Bonus: $88,000… I had never seen a cent of this money. Every time I asked, Leo would just smile and say, “I’m saving it for you. It’ll be a surprise one day.” Apparently, the surprise was that he was pocketing all of it. With trembling fingers, I dialed my bank’s customer service line and gave them my social security number to check my balance. “Ms. Sanford, the current balance on your account ending in 8866 is five hundred seventy-two dollars and thirty cents.” I nearly crushed my phone in my hand. $572? The absolute nerve of him. “Can you… can you tell me if there have been any large withdrawals recently?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “Yes, ma’am. In the last three months, there have been three transfers out: one for $15,000, one for $28,000, and one for $10,000. All three were sent to the same account, registered under the name Leo Sterling.” The world tilted on its axis. He hadn’t just stolen my money; he had brazenly transferred it directly into his own account. Where did he get the audacity? Two hours later, Maya arrived at my house with her cousin, a private investigator. After I explained the situation, her cousin pushed his glasses up his nose. “This is grand larceny. With these amounts, you could press charges right now.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Jail is too easy. I want to ruin him.” The report the PI delivered the next day was even more shocking. It turned out my father hadn’t just been giving me cash; he’d also established an educational trust fund in my name. The current balance was over two hundred thousand dollars. And Leo, acting as my self-appointed “financial advisor,” had managed to get access to it. “This is a federal crime,” the PI said grimly. “But I found something else you might find interesting.” He handed me a file containing transcripts of text messages between Leo and Jessica Raines. It turned out Jessica wasn’t some rich girl at all; she was just a random student Leo had met on the Northwood forum. “Oh, and one more thing,” the PI added. “The suite at The Empyrean? It was charged to your debit card. The total was $5,888.88.” I burst out laughing, a cold, sharp sound that held no humor. “Leo, Leo, Leo. You really are one for the books.” He steals all that money from me and he can't even splurge on the party with his own stolen funds? With all the evidence I needed, I called my father. “Dad, did you know Leo has a girlfriend? He’s been pushing me really hard to buy him those condos. Says he wants to build a ‘love nest’.” My father’s voice sharpened instantly. “What?” I emailed him everything. The forum posts, the texts, the bank statements, the PI’s report. Thirty minutes later, he replied. “Go to the party as planned. I’ll handle things.” On the night of the party, I chose a simple white dress and light makeup. As I was leaving, my father handed me a beautifully wrapped gift box. “Just what you asked for,” he said with a grim smile. The suite at The Empyrean was opulent, already filled with a dozen of Leo’s classmates and a few girls I didn’t recognize. One of them, I presumed, was Jessica. Leo’s face lit up when he saw me. “Chloe!” He hurried over, his eyes immediately fixing on the gift box in my hands. His smile widened. “Happy birthday,” I said, holding it out to him. He reached for it eagerly, but I pulled it back slightly. “Leo, why don’t you wait until everyone is here to open your gifts?” His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, even brighter than before. “You’re right, Chloe. A gift this special deserves an audience.” He ran his hand over the box, a greedy light shining in his eyes. I noticed a girl in a pink dress in the corner, staring daggers at me. She pushed herself to her feet and walked toward us. Her makeup was flawless, but it couldn’t hide the raw jealousy in her eyes. This had to be Jessica. “Leo, aren’t you going to introduce me?” I asked sweetly. He flinched. “Ah, this is… this is my…” Jessica didn’t wait for him to finish. She strode forward and looped her arm through his. “I’m his girlfriend, Jessica Raines. Freshman at Northwood.” I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “Girlfriend? Leo, when did this happen?” She glared at me, her voice dripping with venom. “You must be the clingy foster sister he’s always complaining about.” The room went silent. Every eye was on us. I laughed. “Clingy foster sister? Leo, is that how you describe me?” A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Chloe, I can explain—” Jessica cut him off. “Leo said you were annoying and that you smother him. Now that he’s gotten into Northwood and you couldn’t even pass your SATs, can’t you just leave us alone?” She was on a roll now, her voice rising. “Don’t think your family’s charity gives you any right to him. Everything Leo has, he earned himself. It has nothing to do with you. He can be with whoever he wants. Just because you have some pathetic childhood crush doesn’t mean you stand a chance against me.” It was so cliché it was almost funny. Jessica really needed to stop reading so many Wattpad novels. I took a moment to compose myself, then looked directly at Leo. “Is this really how you feel?” He avoided my gaze. “Chloe, you didn’t even get into college… we’re not on the same path anymore.” I stared at the boy I had once considered my closest family, my other half. My voice was ice. “If we’re not on the same path, then why are you shamelessly asking me to buy you a condo?” A murmur rippled through the room. The other students were now looking at Leo and Jessica with open contempt. “Asking his foster family for a condo to live in with his girlfriend? Does this guy have any shame?” Jessica’s face flushed. She pointed a finger at me. “Don’t you dare make things up to slander my Leo! He’s the top scorer in the state! Who the hell are you to talk to him like that?” I didn’t even bother looking at her. I pulled my phone from my clutch. “Would you all mind if I connected to the TV for a second?” Before anyone could answer, I had mirrored my screen to the massive flat panel on the wall. A video started playing—security footage from a coffee shop. The audio was crystal clear. “Once I get the condo, we’ll move in together,” Leo’s voice filled the room. “What about Chloe?” Jessica asked. “Doesn’t she have a thing for you?” Leo scoffed. “That idiot? You think she can compare to you? She’s just my personal ATM.” Leo lunged, trying to grab my phone. “Chloe! Let me explain!” I sidestepped him easily. “Explain what? How you spend my family’s money while calling me an idiot behind my back? How you were planning to use a condo bought with our money to build a love nest with your new girlfriend?” His face was ashen. “I… I wasn’t…” Just then, the suite doors swung open. My father walked in, flanked by several men in sharp suits. “Leo Sterling,” my father’s voice was like a chip of ice. “As of today, you are no longer a part of the Sanford family.”
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