Scarface promised to have everything handled within a week, and Marjorie finally let herself breathe.
She went straight to the immigration office to file her paperwork, transferred every asset under her name overseas, and booked a flight to Switzerland departing in seven days.
Once all of that was in motion, Marjorie hired a private investigator and turned her attention to the woman named Bridget Quinn.
When she learned that Bridget hadn't even graduated college yet and had a thug ex-boyfriend, a cold smile crossed her face.
She may have debased herself begging Christian to stay during those desperate months, but that didn't mean she was someone who could be pushed around.
Bridget Quinn had the nerve to come for her. Fine. She'd show the little homewrecker exactly how badly that decision could end.
The next morning, Marjorie put on full makeup, stepped into her tallest stilettos, and with the photos the PI had sent clutched in her hand, tracked down Bridget's ex-boyfriend, Mason James.
"Bridget dumped you for another man with money. You really going to just swallow that?"
She slapped the photos down on the table as she spoke.
They fanned out across the surface, every single one showing Bridget and Christian in intimate poses.
Even though she'd already decided she was done loving Christian Sanchez, the sight of those photos still twisted something deep in her chest.
She knew now. The husband who had once loved her like she was his whole world had changed his heart long ago, right under her nose.
Mason had been lounging in a bamboo chair in the yard, half-asleep. When this strange woman barged in, irritation flickered across his face. But the moment his eyes landed on those photos, the irritation ignited into white-hot rage that shot straight to the top of his skull.
"That lying piece of—"
He didn't even finish lighting the cigarette between his fingers. He snatched up the photos and bolted toward Bridget's university.
Marjorie felt the gust of wind as he tore past her. She watched his retreating figure and let the corner of her mouth curve upward.
She'd done her homework before coming.
Bridget's parents favored sons over daughters and had cut off her living expenses the moment she graduated high school. To pay for college, Bridget had deliberately seduced Mason James, a street thug, and under the guise of being his girlfriend, let him cover four full years of tuition.
Once she was certain the money was secured, Bridget dropped Mason without a second thought, reinvented herself as a tough, self-made girl from a poor background, and set her sights on Christian Sanchez.
Any of this could have been uncovered with the slightest effort on Christian's part.
Marjorie didn't know whether Christian genuinely had no idea, or whether he simply craved the thrill of something new and didn't care enough to look.
But none of that mattered anymore.
She was leaving Christian Sanchez behind. A new place, a new life, a clean start.
Mason moved fast. He stormed into Northgate University like a man possessed and spread Bridget's private photos all over campus.
Bridget was furious and frantic, trying to stop him, but Mason slapped her across the face. More than once.
Marjorie lay on the sofa in the villa, watching the video her PI had sent, and felt nothing but satisfaction.
But before the laugh could leave her throat, a news notification popped up on her screen.
She tapped it on instinct. The wall of headlines hit her like ice water down her spine.
BREAKING: Leaked footage of Christian Sanchez's ex-wife cheating!
Pruitt Group CEO dissolves company — connected to affair scandal?
Marjorie Pruitt caught with younger man, entangled at private club all night!
Her hands shook as she tapped one of the headlines. The surveillance footage filled her screen: her, clothes disheveled, lying on a bed with a man she didn't recognize. That night.
For a moment, Marjorie forgot how to breathe.
The video was spreading at tens of thousands of shares per second. Her phone exploded with calls and messages. Friends, business partners, relatives. Everyone demanding to know what was going on.
She powered the phone off and clutched her head in both hands. The memory of that night surged back, vivid and suffocating, and something inside her cracked.
She was the victim. So who had leaked this footage?
The next second, the sound of a key turning in the front door lock cut through the silence.
Marjorie lifted her head, numb. Christian stood in the doorway, watching her with a smile that wasn't quite a smile.
"Marjorie, when you were busy hurting Bridget, did you ever stop to think about what would happen to you?"
