After my husband threw me out of the house after our divorce, I took the old bank card my father had left behind and used it at a branch in the U.S., sending the whole bank lobby into a stir as the staff hurriedly called the manager over, and the words “Look at the name on this account!” revealed a family secret I had never known.

She dragged her suitcase, trying to hail a cab.

“Where are you going? You won’t survive without me,” he mocked.

“You’ll see.”

Aniya went to a luxury hotel, trying to book a room with the unlimited credit card he’d given her.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Declined,” the receptionist said coldly.

She tried another card. Declined. All declined.

Either he had blocked everything, or the bank had.

Aniya panicked. She called her high-society friends.

“Girl, I have a problem. Can you lend me—”

The phone cut off.

She called another.

“Hello, I have bad signal—”

Phone turned off.

She didn’t know. Zelica, through her new network, didn’t need to do anything. Seek just had to leak Quacy’s audit report to a few key people.

The news that he was a scammer—and that Aniya, the side chick, was linked to a bankrupt scammer—spread through all the group chats of Atlanta’s elite. She was toxic. No one wanted to associate with her.