My Ex-girlfriend Took Advantage of Me

I once dated a stunner for three years. Just after college, she dumped me for a trust fund baby.

After graduation, we ended up in the same city. She was all sugar and no spice to me, making me think she still carried a torch.

But turns out, I was just a pawn. While she played house with some pretty boy, she used me as her scapegoat.

She swiped her company's bid proposal, telling her rich husband I had masterminded the whole scheme.

She sold their luxury car, spinning it to him as a favor to me because she worried about my commute.

She offloaded their vacation home, claiming she was giving me a leg up because she pitied my living situation.

And then she transferred $20 million out of their account, pinning it on me as a bad investment tip, only to get swindled.

Her machinations turned her hubby against me so fiercely, that he had me locked up.

I wasn't about to play the fall guy. I wanted to clear the air, to get free.

But to silence me for good, my ex made sure I was offed.

When I came to, it was like a reset—I was back before the slammer before it all went south. This time around, I'm gonna make her pay.

"Logan Freeman, seriously? Got no shame? Being single and hovering around my wife all day, claiming you're ‘just friends'?"

"That's a new one for a friend, don't you think?"

"Don't kid yourself—I know every skeleton in your closet and everything you pulled with my wife. I've done my homework!"

"Logan, you're on my last nerve!"

"Disappear from this town, stay away from my wife—now!"

"Consider this your final headsup!"

On the line, her husband, Ryan Young, was blowing his top at me.

His anger was off the charts.

How could anyone tolerate their spouse being thick as thieves with their ex, especially under the guise of friendship?

My rage dwarfed his by miles.

If it hadn't been for all the frames and setups by his wife in my past life, I wouldn't have wound up behind bars, let alone dead.

Given a second shot, I refuse to be the patsy again.

"Is she there right now? With you? Speak up!"

The line was silent again, only to be shattered by Ryan's thundering voice.

As I recalled all the underhanded tricks from my previous life, it dawned on me—today marked the oneyear anniversary of Tiffany's fling. They were likely out on a tryst.

I decided to stir the pot. "Ryan, Tiffany's your wife, man. If you can't keep tabs on her, why the heck are you grilling me? Feeling a bit inadequate?"

"You ungrateful twerp!"

Ryan was a keg of dynamite ready to blow.

Seriously, what man could handle another guy, constantly in his wife's orbit, and not lose it when taunted?

Ryan's fury gave me a cold thrill. I yelled towards the bathroom, "Hey Tiffany, you done in there? Taking forever—need a hand with your back?"

"Logan!"

His roar came through the phone call.

It could've cracked the screen.

Just as I was gearing up for another round, the line went dead.

Barely ten minutes later, rapid knocks echoed at the door.

Peering through the peephole, there stood Ryan, unexpectedly fast on the uptake.

The moment I cracked open the door, two bodyguards tucked away sprang into action.

Bam!

I was floored in an instant.

Before I could even flinch, his bodyguards pinned me down, one's knee pressing my head against the cold floor.

Gasping for air was a struggle under that iron grip.

Ryan charged past without a glance, made a beeline for the bathroom, and then ransacked the rest of my place in a frenzy.

His rampage, fueled by not finding her, oddly satisfied me.

Coming back to me, Ryan signaled his goons.

They jerked me to my feet, clamping down hard on my arms.

Ryan, seething, grabbed my hair, his eyes deadly. "Playing games, huh? I'm asking you one last time—where's my wife?"

Watching Ryan's face contort with fury, I couldn't resist a jab, "Losing your wife and then asking me about it? Sounds like a bad joke, doesn't it?"

No sooner had I spoken,

Whack!

Ryan slapped me hard across the face.

The sting didn't wipe the smirk off my face; I kept eyeing him defiantly.

Right now, nothing I could say would make a dent. Just like before, Ryan's hatred ran deep. Why would he believe a word I said now?

Spilling the beans would only play right into Tiffany's hands, leaving me out in the cold.

I needed to push Ryan to the edge.

Push him to rip apart his wife's web of lies and see the real Tiffany.

Whack!

His hand struck my face again.

I taunted, halflaughing, "Is that your best shot? Just flying off the handle?"

"Looking for trouble?"

Fire blazed in Ryan's eyes. Clutching my throat, he growled, "Think you can keep quiet about her whereabouts and I'm helpless?"

"I've got a hundred ways to make your life hell!"

He yanked my phone from my pocket and forced my finger to unlock it.

As expected, he turned up nothing.

I'd be weird if he'd found something.

I'm just the fall guy for his wife, not her secret lover.

Yet, Ryan must have figured I was clever enough to have wiped any incriminating texts, which is why he came up empty.

After his fruitless search, he shot me a wary look, "Think you're smart, huh?"

"Believe deleting messages makes you clean? Think I can't dig up dirt on you?"

"Keep dreaming!"

Ryan didn't waste a moment, finding my boss's number in my contacts.

He sneered, "You exploited my wife last time to steal our bid proposal. If not for her pleading, I'd have taken you to court already!"

"Imagine I take this to your company now. How do you think they'd treat you?"

"They'd sever ties in a heartbeat, kick you to the curb, fire you on the spot!"

"You fought hard to get to management, and you're not exactly rolling in dough. You really want to risk your job?"

Ryan dialed up my boss on a video call.

The boss appeared onscreen, lounging at home, visibly irritated, "Logan, have you lost your mind? What the... Oh, Mr. Young?"

In a small town, everyone knows Ryan Young, the wealthy heir.

Ryan held the phone towards me, asking, "This guy works for you, right? You recognize him?"

My boss, taken aback, responded, "Sure, Mr. Young. What's the issue here?"

"Well, it seems your company likes to play dirty, sending employees to filch our bid proposals," Ryan accused, eyes locked on mine as a silent threat that this was my last shot to reveal the truth.

Unphased, I didn't flinch or plead.

Ryan's temper flared as he continued, turning back to the screen, "If you don't deal with this man, I'll have YD Enterprises' legal team on your back!"

That icy threat was all it took for my boss to fold.

The truth was irrelevant; he wouldn't dare cross the heir to YDE for a mere subordinate like me.

"Absolutely, Mr. Young. A dishonest employee like this doesn't deserve to stay. He's fired, effective immediately!"

"That's right!"

Satisfied, Ryan hung up the call, then switched off the video, giving me a smug glance.

He seemed to be gloating.

I glared back, undeterred, "Ryan, this whole frameup is lame. I didn't steal that proposal. Go sue your wife if you want to blame someone!"

"Ha..."

Ryan scoffed dismissively, "What? Can't take the heat?"

"You've been cozying up to my wife, calling yourselves best friends, taking our car and house, even tricked her into moving $20 million!"

"When you were busy backstabbing, you should have seen this coming."

"After having done such things, did you think it wouldn't come back to bite you?"

Ryan roared with fury.

But I thought he might need a throughout checkup on his brain.

Really, if I had the luxury cars, the mansion, and $20 million, would I even be sweating a job right now?

Seeing my smirk reappear, Ryan's triumphant expression faded. He gritted his teeth, "You won't believe it till you see it for yourself, huh?"

"Fine, if that's the game you're playing, I'll make sure it's game over for you!"

Ryan's face was a mask of rage as he scrolled to my parents' contact info.

Panic kicked in, though I wasn't sure what he was up to.

"Okay, okay, I'll spill!"

I blurted out quickly.

Ryan paused, his gaze icy as he locked eyes with me.

"Maybe you should check with your secretary," I suggested, laying it on the line.

I told him the real deal.

From what I knew before, Tiffany was messing around with Ryan's secretary, Andy, and today marked their oneyear fling anniversary—they were likely out celebrating.

"My secretary knows where Tiffany is?"

Ryan looked at me doubtfully.

"He's around her a lot, you know that. Maybe he's in the loop,"

I pushed.

Ryan hesitated, then pulled out his phone and dialed.

Moaning and heavy breathing filled the line when it connected.

Ryan scowled, "Andy, what in the world are you up to?"

"Mr. Young, just celebrating my anniversary with my girlfriend... heh..." Andy replied, breathlessly, having little intention to distract Ryan from what he was up to, "It's my day off, boss. What do you need?"

Ryan shot me a look, then pressed, "I'm trying to find Tiffany. Seen her?"

The moaning stopped. After a pause, Andy said, "Honestly, Mr. Young, I wouldn't know."

"Sure, I've driven Mrs. Young a few times, but she always heads straight to Logan, her 'bestie'."

"Logan's all hushhush about it, really secretive. I once tried to get the scoop but got an earful from him, and Mrs. Young told me to back off, so I did."

"You might wanna ask Logan, Mr. Young. He's likely to know."

Ryan's expression darkened even more at that.

He ended the call and grabbed my collar, his voice low and menacing, "When will you stop playing games? Where is she?!"

As Ryan seethed, I nearly burst out laughing.

Tiffany and the secretary daring to play him like that...

His secretary lying through his teeth while apparently doing it with his wife—Ryan was just too easy to fool.

It's a sad truth: those who are pitiable often bring it on themselves.

After all, last time, Tiffany had him set someone up to silence me in jail.

And he, naive enough to believe her even as he was being cuckolded, agreed without a second thought!

So, no, I wouldn't hand him the truth on a silver platter.

Even if I told him, he wouldn't accept it.

He needed to uncover it all himself—to watch his world crumble, to see Tiffany with nowhere to turn!

My grin only made Ryan's eyes colder. "Take him away!"

The bodyguards hauled me downstairs, manhandling me the entire way.

I warned Ryan as I was dragged along, "Keep this up, and I swear, I'll call the cops!"

"Call the cops?" Ryan scoffed as if I'd cracked a joke, "You kidnap my wife, coax her into stealing plans, con us out of cars and homes, and trick her out of millions!"

"Go ahead, call them. Let's see who they haul off!"

With that, they shoved me into a black van.

Ryan took me to a beauty salon, Tiffany's alleged hideout according to her usual excuses, and where I was supposedly her alibi.

As we arrived, bystanders gathered, some filming with their phones, drawn by the spectacle.

"What's all this about?"

"What's happening?"

Ryan addressed the growing crowd, spinning his version of events.

Instantly, I was the villain in their eyes.

"Gross, I can't stand guys like that, using the 'best friend' angle to sneak around with someone's wife!"

"Exactly, female best friends? Maybe. But a guy? That's just shady!"

"Such a sleaze!"

"Complete scum!"

The crowd's jeers surrounded me.

Ryan then dragged me into the salon.

Tiffany wasn't there. He pointed at me, asking the manager, "You recognize this guy? He claims to frequent here with my wife."

"Um..."

The manager squinted, looking me over, "Nope, doesn't look familiar. He's not one of our regulars."

Ryan's fury peaked, "Logan, you dare to toy with me!"

He pushed my head towards the wall.

The salon owner, worried about trouble, quickly stepped in.

Outside, the crowd's curiosity turned into a frenzy.

They whispered and pointed, their stories growing more outrageous by the minute.

Some claimed I'd cheated with Ryan's wife and got busted.

Others speculated I was trafficking women, having sold his wife to some backwoods recluse.

Watching the spectators filming with their phones and talking like they'd seen the whole picture, an idea dawned on me.

"Logan, are you gonna tell me where she is or what?" Ryan's patience was thin, gripping my collar, "You have ten seconds, or I call the cops!"

"Just the cops?"

I mocked him, "Why not make it a media show? Expose me completely, make sure I can never hold my head up again!"

Ryan narrowed his eyes, then yelled to his guards, "You hear that? Do what he wants, give him his big break!"

As the reporters and police arrived, the scene got even more chaotic.

Cameras and phones were all pointed at me, with some folks firing up live streams on the spot.

The crowd was outraged.

"Jerk! Hitting on a married woman? Got no shame?"

"I hate guys like you, preying on someone else's wife. If it were me, you'd be dead already!"

"Exactly, I'd have knocked you senseless before even calling the cops!"

"Scumbag, you ran off with his wife, and now that the cops are here, aren't you going to come clean?"

"Pathetic!"

Suddenly, an egg flew from the crowd, splattering all over my face.

I stood there, egg yolk dripping down, looking like I'd committed a heinous crime.

"Your reputation's trashed from today on!" Ryan said coldly, glaring at me.

I glanced back at Ryan and couldn't help but smile.

Who's really going to end up ruined? We'll just have to see.

A police officer murmured something to Ryan.

Ryan looked at me with a frosty expression and ordered, "Take him to his villa. Search it top to bottom!"

I was impressed by the police's swift action.

And deep down, I was elated.

My villa, where Tiffany and her fling have been frolicking? Perfect.

With this crowd and the cameras rolling, it's time for the curtain to fall on this drama.