Bart Garrow met Clara Funcinno, a 56-year-old widow at her gym after ascertaining she had a considerable amount on deposit from the insurance payout after her husband’s death. For six weeks, he romanced Clara, took her dancing and dining at the most expensive restaurants in town, and sent her flowers and love letters.
Clara felt as if she was the most cherished woman in the world, as if finally someone saw her, Clara, in all her fragility, strength, and complexity. And so she fell in love.
When two months after their first meeting Bart fell on one knee and asked her to marry him, she didn’t even hesitate. Clara said yes and proudly wore the huge diamond Bart had given her.
The two started planning their wedding. Bart said, “I know you were married before, Clara, but I wasn’t. I want a big wedding, and I want you to wear white for me.”
Clara blushed. “Oh Bart!” she gasped. “At my age! White is for virgin brides, young girls…”
Bart kissed her hand and whispered, “Clara, I think I won your virgin heart. Tell me, have you ever loved anyone the way you love me? Because I know I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”
So of course, Clara went shopping for a gorgeous wedding dress and melted every time Bart played “White Lace and Promises” for her. Clara was flying high on love, and that was when Bart struck.
One Friday afternoon he picked her up for a picnic, but he was not quite himself. He was distracted, distant. “Darling, what’s wrong?” asked Clara, worried.
“It’s nothing, my sweet,” Bart said smiling. “It’s just business, nothing to worry your pretty head about.”
“You know,” Clara said. “I have an MBA! I might be able to help!”
“Clara, the thing is, I’ve been offered the possibility of buying into a new company and it might be the deal of a lifetime,” Bart said sadly. “Unfortunately, my money is tied up in a six-month deposit my financial manager concocted for taxes… And so I’m going to have to pass the opportunity by.”
“How much is it, Bart?” asked Clara.
“Two hundred thousand dollars,” Bart said. “Quite a chunk of cash.”
“But Bart,” Clara cried. “I can lend you the money!”
“No, Clara,” Bart said firmly. “I won’t take a cent from you! What if something goes wrong? No, never!” But Clara kept insisting and Bart, feigning great reluctance, finally agreed but on one condition.
“We’ll go to my bank, Clara,” he said. “And I’ll give you the transfer code, so if anything goes wrong you know you’ll get your money back!”
Bart took Clara to the bank and showed her the printout of his account that held $8.3 million, then he gave her the code. After that, Clara happily wrote Bart a check for $200,000.
“Babe,” Bart said with tears in his eyes. “I love you so much! I’m going straight to the broker with this, and I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight at 20:00, OK? Wear something special!”
That night, Clara dressed up to the nines and wore Bart’s favorite perfume then waited impatiently for 20:00. Bart, of course, didn’t show up. Clara was frantic with worry. What could have happened to him?
She phoned him several times but the calls went to voice mail time after time. By Saturday morning, Clara was a wreck. She was sure Bart had an accident, that he lay somewhere in a hospital…
Finally, Bart answered the phone. “Yes?” he snapped coldly. “What is it?”
“Bart!” gasped Clara. “Thank God you’re alright! I’ve been so worried…”
“Listen you old bag, stop calling me, OK?” he said. “We’re finished. I have what I wanted from you.”
“What?” asked Clara bewildered. “Bart, I think you must be ill…”
“I’m sick of you, is what it is!” he snapped. “Are you so stupid you don’t know you’ve been conned?” And with that, he disconnected the call. When Clara tried to call again she realized she’d been blocked.
Bart smiled. He derived as much satisfaction from hurting the women as from taking their money, and Clara with her gentle smile and kind heart had been so irritating… Bart stepped out of his building aglow with satisfaction.
Maybe he was ready to settle down now, just one more con… Bart stepped out onto the street and was still smiling when a speeding taxi ran him over. There was no saving him. He was gone. And since he’d listed Clara as next of kin at his bank, the police contacted her.
Clara was stunned! Just an hour after he’d broken her heart Bart was dead! It was almost as if Karma had taken a hand. “The bank…” Clara gasped. He wouldn’t have had time to cancel the code he’d given her!
So Clara contacted a funeral home and arranged everything for a modest funeral for the late unlamented Bart. Monday morning, bright and early, Clara was at the bank and she transferred the entire $8.3 million to her bank account.
Bart’s funeral wasn’t well attended, except for two other women Clara recognized from the neighborhood. Then Clara saw the engagement rings on their fingers — identical to hers!
“How much did he take you ladies for?” Clara asked.
Tessa sniffed. “He took $430,000… All I had.”
Frannie sighed. “With me, it was $300,000! All my savings. I’m going to be struggling,” she said. “And the diamond? It’s glass! He got us good!”
Clara grinned. “No he didn’t!” she said. “Karma got him! He died before he could cancel the withdrawal code he gave me and I got the entire $8.3 million!”
Clara split the money with Frannie and Tessa, and a week later, the three women left for the Bahamas for vacation, paid for by Bart!
What can we learn from this story?
- Whenever a boyfriend or lover mentions money, head for the door! Clara, Frannie, and Tessa fell for the oldest trick in the book. Keep money and love separate.
- Sooner or later, the bill for malice will come due. Bart lived by conning women and breaking their hearts, but Karma brought his career to a sudden halt.
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Note: This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.