My Fiancée Wanted a Break Because of a New Guy, So I Packed Up and Moved Cities…
Midnight Ice Cream and Honest Conversations
Her phone vibrated; Miles sent another SMS. She stared at it for a long time before shutting it off entirely.
“I have to go,”
She murmured quickly, rushing for the stairs.
“I just—I need to think.”
We let her leave. Sometimes the most generous thing you can do is provide space.
Hours have passed. Delilah and I talked, truly talked for the first time in weeks, regarding worries and blunders, about Stella, Miles, and about us.
Around midnight, I was preparing to return to Ryan’s when my phone lit up with a text from Stella.
“I messed up. Everything’s messed up. Can we talk? I mean really talk? Not about Miles or money or anything? Just… remember when we used to have ice cream after my dancing classes and you’d let me rant about school drama? Could we do that? I know I don’t deserve it.”
I’m composing this from my car, which is parked outside our local ice cream shop. It’s supposedly closed, but the owner recognizes us; we have been coming here for three years.
He is staying open late just for us. Stella just arrived in her mother’s automobile.
She’s sitting there, probably gathering up the nerve to enter, exactly as I am. Sometimes the most difficult conversations begin with the slightest steps.
Exposing the Fraud
Or in this case, mint chocolate chip ice cream at midnight. Final update.
That night in the ice cream shop altered everything. Stella spoke for hours about Miles’ manipulation, her anxieties, and guilt.
But it was something she said in passing that piqued my interest. Miles had asked Jessica to get her friends’ parents to invest in his firm as well.
Something clicked. I remembered the lawsuits I’d discovered—a pattern of targeting families through their children.
The rage I’d been hiding now had a purpose.
“You know,”
I explained carefully.
“What he’s doing isn’t simply ethically wrong. It is illegal.”
Stella glanced up from her melting ice cream.
“What do you mean?”
I described securities fraud and unlawful investment techniques. Her eyes widened as she took out her phone and showed me the group conversations.
Miles was directly soliciting investments from children. That night after sending Stella off, I made some phone calls.
The Sting at the Dinner
Quinn has a friend in the SEC. Ryan knows someone in the District Attorney’s office.
By morning, I had a plan. Miles didn’t see it coming.
He was too preoccupied with his big announcement dinner, where he intended to persuade Stella to hand over her education fund. He had also invited the parents of some of her friends.
The dinner was held at an expensive restaurant. Miles was in his element, discussing Silicon Valley connections and assured profits.
I waited for the appetizers to arrive before rising up.
“Before we continue,”
I said.
“There are some people who’d like to join us.”
On cue, two federal agents and a state investigator entered. Miles’ face changed from confident to confused to terrified in seconds.
Miles was operating more than one fraud, it seems. The detectives discovered seven different fraudulent schemes in three jurisdictions.
Justice and the Confrontation
Every time he reconnected with Stella over the years, he would set up new victims. The classic automobile dealership that cost Delilah her funds was part of a broader scam scheme.
The food truck franchise follows the same pattern. But here’s the beautiful part: he’d gotten sloppy this time.
He had documented everything in texts and emails to Stella, believing she would never turn against him. When she forwarded the messages to the investigators, his fate was sealed.
The parents present at the dinner wore wires. Every promise, lie, and illegal investment pitch was recorded.
Miles tried to run, knocking over a waiter before sprinting for the door. He took three steps before being stopped by security.
As they led him away, he gave Stella that manipulative puppy dog expression that she had fallen for so many times.
“This is all a misunderstanding sweetie. Tell them. I am your father.”
Stella stood up, shoulders straight.
“My father’s right here,”
She said, taking my hand.
“And he just watched you get exactly what you deserve.”
Rebuilding Trust and a Real Family
The aftermath was intense with news coverage and victim statements. More families are coming forward.
The investigators discovered over 2.3 million dollars in stolen funds. Miles estimates 15 to 20 years.
His startup consisted solely of a website and some stolen photos of a real tech company’s office. But the true victory was not witnessing Miles’ arrest.
It was the brief moments that followed. Stella placed all of her photos with Miles in a box and donated them to the prosecution.
“Evidence,”
She said with a hint of her old smile. She reapplied to her AP courses.
In light of the circumstances, the school was understanding. Instead of being angry, her friends’ parents formed a support group for families impacted by similar scams.
Something good came from something bad. Stella asked me last night for help with her college essays.
“I have a pretty unique story now,”
She explained.
“How many people can write about bringing down their biological father’s fraudulent empire?”
