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Miranda sat quietly as she waited for Eden to let her know what she found.

“I have searched his full legal name, his first name only, and his last name only. He is not in our system. I checked the high-net-worth database, and he’s not listed there either. Simply put, he does not have enough money to be recognized by Rashid Zayed,” Eden admitted.

“I already knew he was lying. But he has the card, and Myla saw it. So that’s what has me confused. How did he get access to such a prestigious card?” Miranda asked. She could not let this go. She knew that Dante was a fraud and she would not rest until she could prove it.

“I don’t…” Eden paused to think. “Do you know his address?”

Miranda thought back to New Year’s when Dante invited them to a big dark house. The whole vibe was off, but because of the neighborhood, Myla didn’t seem to notice that something was wrong.

“Yeah, the address he gave us was 725 Windsor Wellington Estate Drive.”

Miranda could hear Eden typing in the address.

“Ok. So, if that’s the address he gave you, that’s how he got the card. The home at 725 Windsor Wellington Estate Drive belonged to a member of the First Family. The homeowner returned to Dubai, requested another card, and received it. Mr. Helgard appears to be a fraud. But what’s new with these lying ass men,” Eden said. Her professional hat slipped just a little.

Miranda smirked.

“I did a basic Google search, and there are some crazy articles that include his name. But that’s all I found. If I were you, I’d prioritize reading these articles,” Eden urged.

“Thank you for looking, Edy,” Miranda said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you later,” Eden said as she ended the call.

Miranda was not shocked that Dante’s name was not found in their high-net-worth database or that he was squatting in a wealthy neighborhood. What shocked her was the fact that she hadn’t thought of looking on Google.

“How did I miss that?” she muttered under her breath.

For someone who started their banking career as a money laundering investigator, the thought of overlooking something as simple as a search engine was embarrassing. But to be fair, Dante’s lies had been so bold that Miranda assumed anything real about him would be buried deeper than a basic internet search.

“There’s only one way to find out what you’ve been hiding,” Miranda said as she opened a new browser tab. She already had several open from the work she neglected to do today. At the moment, what she was doing now was more important. Placing her hand on the keyboard’s home row, she typed Dante Helgard.

Eden had informed her that there were crazy articles about him. As she waited for the search results to load, a strange feeling crept over her. She skimmed over everything that included his name.

The first few links were for a real estate site with his name attached to listings of homes that looked unimpressive for someone who claimed to handle multimillion-dollar commercial deals.

The homes on the generic website appeared to be either dilapidated or uninhabitable. Yet the description said, “Move in ready. First-time homeowners automatically approved.” Miranda frowned in disgust.

She moved over to his LinkedIn pages. A total of three pages with minimal information. His listed experience stated that he was a motivational speaker, Luxury Commercial Development Specialist, and Global Real Estate Consultant. None of it meant anything. In her opinion, it was fluff that was supposed to make him feel good about himself.

“Yeah, you’re definitely full of shit,” she whispered to herself. She laughed when she saw the sites for: Don’t Date Him Girl, Run Girl, Run! and He’s a scammer mentioning his name.

The pages were filled with hundreds of women, all saying the same thing. She bookmarked each page to show Myla. Her hands paused, and her eyebrows rose when she saw the headline,

Man Charged in Multi-State Mortgage Fraud Scheme

Miranda’s stomach tightened.

The article was from several years ago, published by a regional news outlet she vaguely recognized. She clicked it immediately. When the article finally appeared, Miranda felt a chill crawl up her spine. There was no mistaking the man in the photo. It was Dante. He was younger, his look was less polished, but it was definitely him.

Miranda leaned closer to the screen and began reading the article:

Dante Helgard is a central figure involved in what is described as a complex mortgage fraud operation. He falsified financial documents, used shell companies, and purchased multiple properties under fraudulent circumstances. Investigators alleged that the scheme targeted banks in several states.

Helgard worked with several partners to manipulate property values and secure inflated loan amounts. The operation had reportedly moved millions of dollars through fake transactions before federal investigators began piecing together the evidence. However, the case collapsed due to insufficient witness testimony and missing documentation.

“So, he walked away without any repercussion? What kind of conman shit is this?” Miranda asked herself quietly as she leaned back in her chair.

Her heart was racing. Sweat was literally beading up her perfectly laid edges. This was crazy, but Miranda knew that one article from years ago wasn’t enough. If she was going to confront Myla about this, she needed more. A lot more. Then she saw it.