I was head over heels for my boyfriend, Ryan, after just three months. His charm and success as a tech investor swept me off my feet, and his proposal had me planning our future. After a long day at my law firm, I decided to surprise him at home, clutching the roses he’d given me.
Ryan’s recent behavior—canceling plans with my parents over a supposed house emergency—nagged at me. My mom, a former detective, found his address. I hopped in a cab, heart racing, hoping a surprise visit would ease my doubts about our whirlwind romance.
At Ryan’s upscale house, I rang the doorbell, expecting his grin. A woman answered. “I’m Sophie, Ryan’s wife,” she said, her wedding ring glinting. My knees buckled. “I’m Emily, his fiancée,” I replied, showing my ring. The world spun as I realized Ryan had lied to us both.
Sophie exploded, throwing a book at me. “Get away from my husband!” she shouted. I backed away, insisting I didn’t know he was married. She slammed the door. I collapsed on the steps, sobbing, my dreams of love crushed by Ryan’s deception.
Sophie returned, her anger softened, carrying wine. “We’re both his victims,” she said, sitting beside me. Over drinks, I mentioned Ryan’s plea for $50,000 for his dad’s surgery. Sophie scoffed. “His dad died years ago.” She revealed Ryan had used her to build a profitable business, likely eyeing her money.
Determined to fight back, Sophie suggested we confront Ryan at his office. We arrived to find it deserted. Searching his desk, we uncovered fake IDs and loans in Sophie’s name. Our new plan: I’d send the money, and we’d catch him with police help when he withdrew it.
I met Ryan for dinner, transferring the $50,000 as he smiled, unaware of our trap. Later, I couldn’t reach Sophie. At their house, I found it empty—everything gone, including my grandmother’s ring Ryan stole from my bathroom. Sophie was in on it, and I’d lost everything.
