When Carla’s late father’s neighbor called about noisy tenants, she was stunned. She’d never rented out her dad’s house — it was her last connection to him. Rushing over, she found beer cans, loud music, and her husband’s friends trashing the place.
Her husband, Phil, had secretly turned her father’s cherished home into a party pad for his buddies, pocketing the rent behind her back. The betrayal cut deep. This house wasn’t just bricks — it was her memories, her grief, her peace.
Carla didn’t scream. Instead, she called Phil’s friend Nate and made him a deal: help her teach Phil a lesson, and he could stay rent-free for a month. Nate agreed and fed Phil a fake emergency: the house was “on fire.” Panicked, Phil raced over, only to find no flames — just the truth waiting for him.
By the time he got home, Carla had decided. She sold the house, served him divorce papers, and chose herself over his lies. He lost the house, the money, and the wife who wouldn’t be betrayed twice.
