In one message, Dorian told Brianna: “Just give me two days and I will have the cash to get us out of here.” Then there was a voice memo where his voice sounded sickeningly sweet.
“Skylar thinks she needs me to run her life. Once the wire clears, I’m gone. Women always want to be the hero or the martyr, and if you play the right part, they’ll do all the work for you.”
Meredith tapped her pen on the table and looked at me. “Back that up in three different clouds immediately.”
I didn’t feel like crying anymore; I felt a strange, surgical calm. I realized the house hadn’t just caught fire by accident; Dorian had been pouring gasoline in every corner while I was sleeping.
I spent the day changing every password and filing a formal police report for grand larceny. When I finally pulled back into my driveway, I found Dorian standing there with his mother, Lydia.
Lydia was dressed in a sharp blazer and pearls, wearing that expression of a woman who believed her son was a king who could do no wrong. “That is quite enough of this drama,” she said the moment I stepped out of the truck. “Dorian says you are fabricating lies because you are jealous.”