Thomas was charming when I met him — a witty bartender with a tragic backstory. I was 34, fresh out of a dull relationship, and he felt like life. We married within a year. He quit his job soon after, saying he needed time to “find himself.” I paid the bills, covered his debts, and even entertained the idea of him working at my dad’s real estate firm. But nothing ever materialized — just excuses and empty promises.

One day, he crashed a Mercedes during a test drive and casually told me I’d cover the damage. When I questioned him, he said he assumed my father or I would handle it. That arrogance made my stomach turn. Something didn’t feel right. Later that evening, I checked his location history. He’d spent over 40 minutes at an unknown address before the test drive. A quick search revealed it was a wealthy widow’s home — Margaret.

Through a fake outreach call, I confirmed Thomas had been visiting her regularly, playing the helpful companion role. He was using her grief the same way he’d used my trust. I didn’t confront him right away. I collected proof: screenshots, call logs, and more.

Then I made my move. My dad invited him to the office, pretending to offer a job. Instead, he handed Thomas divorce papers, financial documents, and proof of his deception. Thomas was stunned.

Finally, I sent Margaret everything anonymously. She exposed him publicly.

Thomas lost everything — me, his schemes, and the next mark.

He never saw it coming.