Chapter 4
1259words
Diane had arrived before us.
She sat by the window, wearing an exquisitely tailored cream cashmere dress and a strand of lustrous pearls. Sunlight filtered through wooden lattice windows, bathing her in a gentle glow that made her look like a serene classical painting.
If not for her eyes, I might have mistaken her for just another wealthy woman enjoying afternoon tea.
Those beautiful eyes burned with tightly controlled anger—a volcano about to erupt, calm on the surface but with magma churning beneath.
"Miss Mia, Attorney Emma," she nodded slightly, her voice steady and clear. "Please sit."
Emma and I sat across from her, the atmosphere thick with tension.
"Thank you," Diane spoke first, looking straight at me without preamble. "Thank you for showing me that scumbag's true face."
I was surprised by her directness and momentarily at a loss for words.
"After the wedding video," she picked up the bone china teacup, her fingertips elegant but her tone ice-cold, "I checked his phone, emails, and all his private accounts. I discovered that over these years, he hasn't just been involved with your former fiancé."
She paused, a cold, deeply sarcastic smile playing at the corner of her lips.
"There were others—many of them—young men about the same age as his son. I can hardly believe I was so blind and shared a bed with such a person for fifteen years."
The weight of this revelation left both Emma and me stunned.
"I heard he's using various means to threaten you, forcing you to sign that absurd agreement," Diane set down her teacup with a crisp sound against the saucer—like a resolute war drum. "Don't be afraid of him. I, likewise, will not let him off."
In that moment, I sensed both the tremendous hatred of a betrayed woman and the decisive force of someone accustomed to power.
"Vincent cares about two things above all else," Diane spoke at a measured pace, each word precisely driven like a nail, "his dignified elite image in high society, and the status and wealth my family provides him."
"Everyone in his circle is a hypocrite who considers themselves elite—each with their own dirty secrets—but what they value most is maintaining that glossy facade. If they knew Vincent's true orientation, if they knew he was embezzling company money to keep those young men... well, do you think he could remain in that circle?"
As she spoke, she removed a small USB drive from her Hermès handbag, placed it gently on the white tablecloth, and pushed it toward me.
That small black object, catching the afternoon sunlight, seemed to contain destructive energy.
"These are items I've collected over the past few days," Diane's gaze fell on the USB drive with cold satisfaction. "Detailed information about his other 'prey,' transaction records showing how he embezzled company funds through complex methods to buy cars and houses for his lovers, and the address and access card to his 'love nest'—that exclusive hotel apartment in the most luxurious part of the city where he meets them privately."
My breathing stopped, my eyes fixed on that USB drive.
"Mia," Diane looked back at me, her gaze intense, "I didn't just come to you about divorcing him. I want him completely ruined."
I felt my frozen blood finally begin to flow again, gradually coming to a boil.
Emma spoke up, her voice carrying a lawyer's characteristic coolness and a hint of excitement: "Ms. Diane, with this evidence, we can completely take control of the situation."
"Exactly," Diane gave Emma an approving glance, then turned to me. "So, we need a plan."
For the next hour, the quiet tearoom transformed into our war room.
"First step, I'll start with our social circle," Diane's fingers tapped lightly on the table, sketching an invisible web. "During afternoon tea with those ladies, I'll 'accidentally' mention that I recently discovered Vincent seems to have a special 'interest' in young men and has spent quite a bit of money on them. I'll say I'm considering hiring a private investigator to look deeper."
She smiled with cruel elegance. "Rest assured, within one afternoon, this news will spread throughout the entire circle. They'll be like sharks smelling blood, frantically probing and speculating."
I immediately understood her intention. "You're priming public opinion—planting seeds of doubt in everyone's mind first."
"Absolutely correct," Diane nodded. "For the second step, it's up to you, Mia. Counter those rumors about you. Attend your designer events as usual. When someone asks, don't say much—just appear troubled and imply you've offended some untouchable 'big shot' which is why you're being slandered. Trust me, smart people will connect the dots."
"And for the third step," a sharp gleam flashed in Diane's eyes, "two weeks from now is the city's most important charity gala, where all the A-listers attend. Vincent, to maintain his philanthropist image, spends heavily every year on the final auction piece. That day will be the perfect opportunity for our 'surprise'."
My heart raced, filled with a mixture of nervousness, fear, and tremendous excitement.
"Then... what about Alex?" I asked the question that concerned me most. "He also needs to pay for everything he's done."
At the mention of Alex, a contemptuous sneer crossed Diane's face.
"Alex? He's nothing but a vine clinging to Vincent's tree. Once Vincent falls, he'll naturally be finished too."
She picked up her teacup, took an unhurried sip, then continued: "Besides, I've already checked. In the past two years, Alex has racked up considerable debt maintaining his glamorous lifestyle—credit cards, personal loans... Vincent has been quietly covering it all behind the scenes. If we cut off that money flow, do you think those collection agencies will be gentle? He'll crumble all on his own."
After hearing all this, I felt the enormous weight in my chest finally shatter completely.
All the despair and helplessness vanished, replaced by an unprecedented sense of power and control.
Looking at the elegant yet powerful woman before me, I couldn't help but display my first genuine smile in days—one filled with the satisfaction of revenge.
Emma let out a long sigh beside me, patting the back of my hand. "I told you, we're not fighting alone."
With the plan finalized, Diane stood, preparing to leave.
At the doorway, she turned back and looked at me intently.
"Mia, what you're doing takes courage," her voice carried sincere admiration. "Many women, upon discovering their partner's betrayal, choose silence and endurance—for their children, for appearances, or simply out of weakness. But you chose to fight back. That's good."
A wave of warmth flooded my heart as I nodded firmly. "Diane, thank you."
Diane gave me a genuine smile in return, one that softened the intensity in her eyes, making her appear much gentler.
"No, I should be thanking you," she said. "If it weren't for you, I might have remained in the dark for many more years, continuing to play the role of the happy, foolish Mrs. Vincent."
With that, she turned and pushed the door open, the sound of her high heels striking the floor firm and decisive.
Emma and I exchanged smiles, our hearts filled with the excitement of impending battle.
That evening, when I returned alone to the apartment Emma had prepared for me, my phone screen suddenly lit up.
It was a message from Alex.
"Mia, I know you met Diane today. You'll regret it."
