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I screenshotted it and sent it straight to Detective Morrison.
Police were back at Brittany’s apartment before midnight.
Meanwhile, Jonathan and my father kept digging. The deeper they went, the worse it became. Derek and Richard Kane had been trying to leverage my house as collateral for a luxury condo project. Brittany had a pattern of targeting married men with money. Derek had moved marital funds in ways that weren’t just unethical—they were potentially criminal. Each new document stripped the emotion away and made the truth clearer.
This had never been a love triangle.
It was an acquisition attempt dressed up as one.
At the restraining-order hearing, Brittany tried to play the role of a heartbroken victim. Her lawyer called it an emotional breakdown. A temporary collapse. A young woman misled by a married man.
Jonathan dismantled that performance in less than thirty minutes.
He played the footage of her smashing the windows, then showed the selfies, the posts, the surveillance photos, the captions, and finally the pregnancy test found in her apartment. When he asked whether she had been planning to “trap” Derek the same way she accused me of doing, her composure shattered in open court.
“She doesn’t deserve him,” Brittany shouted. “She has everything!”
That was the first honest thing she said.