This woman lived a double life for 3 years. When her boyfriend and husband became friends, she grabbed a firearm and took matters into her own hands.
For over three years, 28-year-old dance instructor Olivia Clendenin managed to juggle two lives at once. She kept her husband, Zachary, waiting on the hook with constant promises of reconciling their marriage, while simultaneously carrying on an active, multi-year relationship with her boyfriend, Cory.
Neither man had any idea just how thoroughly they were being played, until New Year's Eve, when her carefully constructed web of manipulation completely imploded.
The breaking point arrived in Clearcreek Township, Ohio, when both men wound up at the exact same New Year's party. Rather than getting into a brawl over the woman who had been double-crossing them for years, Zachary and Cory took the high road.
They sat down together, shared drinks, and started comparing notes. As the hours passed, every story, excuse, and promise she had whispered to each of them unraveled in real time.
For Clendenin, their newfound peace wasn't just an awkward turn of events, it meant total loss of control. When she showed up at the residence demanding her husband leave with her immediately, he refused to walk away from his newfound truce with her boyfriend.
Furious that her three-year double game was officially over, she left in a blind rage. But she didn't stay gone.
Shortly before 5:00 a.m., Clendenin returned behind the wheel of a Jeep, carrying a .40-caliber handgun. With her mother-in-law trapped in the passenger seat, she pulled up to the driveway and unleashed an eight-round barrage directly into the home and front porch where the men had been gathered.
In a cruel twist, neither her husband nor her boyfriend were struck. The gunfire struck Daniel Johnson, an innocent partygoer who had nothing to do with the love triangle and had simply stepped out onto the porch to smoke a cigarette. He took one to the midsection and had to be placed on support, ultimately surviving only due to the the emergency medical team that stepped in.
Clendenin sped away, only to wreck the Jeep into a guardrail just moments later. While she assumed her subsequent trip to the station was merely about an impaired driving crash, responding officers had already recovered her ditched handgun and magazine right beside the wrecked vehicle.
Inside the interrogation room, her denials collapsed rapidly on camera. She insisted she had never touched a firearm in her life—until detectives mentioned that a person had been struck by gunfire that morning. Without missing a beat, she gave away her guilt with a single question: "Zach or Cory?"
A Warren County jury ultimately saw through every layer of her deception. Clendenin was convicted of Attempted Murder, two counts of Felonious Assault, and Discharging a Firearm into a Habitation, receiving a sentence of 16 to 20 years behind bars.
We have never referred to these this way I my household. Clearly we must be doing everything in plural. 😂
A single spaghetti noodle has a formal singular name: a "spaghetto."
Italian food naming follows strict linguistic grammar where masculine plural nouns end in "-i" and their singular counterparts end in "-o." While an entire bowl of pasta is spaghetti, pulling one solitary strand out of the boiling pot means you are holding a single spaghetto. The exact same rule applies to other pasta favorites: one piece of ravioli is a raviolo, one tube of penne is a penna, and one solitary cannoli pastry is a cannolo.