Chapter 9
512words
Adrian and I had agreed to meet at the courthouse to finalize our divorce.
He was already waiting when I arrived—clutching a tacky bouquet of blood-red roses, eyes bloodshot, voice raspy.
"Victoria, I made a terrible mistake. Sophia seduced me… I've always loved you. Please, can we try again?"
His performance reeked of desperation.
If he truly cared, where was he during the past month? Not a text, not a call.
But now that he's drowning, suddenly he remembers his valuable wife.
I unlocked my phone and casually forwarded him a contact.
"Friend of mine. Energy sector heiress. Only child. Just back from Europe." I paused for effect. "She has a thing for attentive, romantic types like you. Might be worth a shot."
Adrian's eyes lit up like Christmas, words tumbling out before he could stop them.
"What's she like?"
"Is she… difficult?"
He caught himself too late.
I couldn't help but laugh.
This was the man who'd just sworn undying love.
One mention of a rich girl he'd never met, and his mask slipped right off.
He scrambled to recover.
"That's not what I—I was just worried that—"
"Just sign the papers."
I cut him off, pointing at the divorce decree.
"Play nice, and I might introduce you to more 'friends.'"
His face drained of color, but he grabbed the pen.
After signing, he actually followed me outside, pestering me about the heiress's preferences.
I fed him some random bullshit, then slid into my car.
I'd barely pulled away when my phone exploded with his call:
"Victoria! What the HELL kind of number did you give me?! Some guy answered asking if I needed 'special companionship'—BY THE HOUR!"
I faked shock.
"Oh dear! Must've been that escort service card I saved by mistake."
"Just a little joke. Don't be so uptight."
"If you want to run with the big money crowd, you'll need thicker skin than that."
Before he could explode, I hung up and blocked his number.
A month later, I spotted Sophia Blackwood at an exclusive lounge.
She was cooing "darling" to some balding exec. When she spotted me, she actually sauntered over.
"How's Adrian Mitchell these days?"
"Hmph! Don't know who showed him the ropes, but has he actually wormed his way into the cougar circuit?" Her voice dripped acid. "When I offered to marry him, at least that was respectable. But he said I wasn't 'polished' enough. Now he's whoring himself out to women old enough to be his mother. Talk about a downgrade."
She sipped her martini, somehow managing to look smug.
"Actually, you should thank me. If it weren't for me, you'd still be blinded by that pretty face of his."
With that parting shot, she swayed back to her sugar daddy.
I arched an eyebrow and checked my phone. The girls' group chat was blowing up—
Adrian Mitchell was at some private party, grinding on a female CEO pushing sixty, desperate to land a contract.
How the mighty had fallen.
I typed a quick message.
[Destroy him. Whatever it costs.]
