Kenneth went on. “Connor applied for financing on a major commercial property six months ago, because he wanted to invest in a new medical office building downtown.”

I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. Connor absolutely loved appearances. Successful men owned investment properties, so he decided he needed one too, regardless of whether he understood the financial details.

He understood how it would look at dinner parties, and that was always enough for him. The problem with massive lies is that they eventually collide with official paperwork, and paperwork never forgets the truth.

“When he applied for that commercial loan,” Kenneth explained, “he had to disclose personal assets he never reported during your divorce.”

Now I understood completely. The very same documents that helped him qualify for the financing had accidentally exposed his perjury. It was a massive, incredibly expensive mistake. For the first time that morning, a genuine smile crept onto my face—not because I felt victorious, but because the whole situation was beautifully absurd. After all his meticulous planning, Connor had exposed himself just to buy a building.