Elodie's POV
“There’s really no way around it,” Valerie cooed, twirling a strand of hair as she sank into the velvet armchair. “Nicholas loves me too much. It’s kind of tragic for you, isn’t it?”
She swept her arm theatrically toward the dozens of luxury shopping bags cluttering the room like confetti after a parade. “Our wedding’s next week—every last detail planned to perfection. Meanwhile, you and the other seven mistresses? You’ll be stuck wandering through empty rooms, forgotten.”
“You’ll never set foot in the Vanderbilt family again,” Valerie sneered. “But if you get on your knees and beg, maybe I’ll be generous enough to toss you some leftovers—just enough to keep you afloat.”
She made a show of glancing around the room, where glossy shopping bags lined the floor like trophies, as if to remind me exactly who was living the high life now.
What she didn’t know—what she couldn’t even fathom—was that I owned the entire mall she’d just ransacked.
Every single dollar Nicholas spent on her little princess fantasy?
It looped right back to me.
Let her drown in handbags. I’ll cash the profits.
Just then, James stepped forward, bowing respectfully.
In his gloved hands were the divorce papers.
“Ms. Delacroix,” he said, calm and polished as ever, “everything is in order. When do you plan to depart?”
Valerie had, of course, ordered the driver and staff not to lift a finger for me.
Petty power move.
But James was loyal and far from stupid.
Outside, eighteen sleek black limousines lined the driveway, flanked by over a hundred bodyguards in suits.
Not just a send-off. A statement.
I glanced at the clock and stood, adjusting my coat.
The Vanderbilt Group’s shareholders had been waiting at the mountainside villa.
Behind me, the seven mistresses followed, their heels clicking across the marble like war drums.
Rebecca’s voice cut through the hallway like a blade. “Nicholas got away with too much for too long. It’s payback time.”
Amanda sniffled, trying to hold it together. “Valerie’s vicious, El. After you leave, we don’t know what she’ll do to us.”
“Better we walk out on our own terms,” Cressida added, arms crossed. “I'm not going to wait around to get shoved out.”
I paused, watching them. These women weren’t just friends. They were battle-tested.
I lifted a hand and gave a slight nod.
“Alright,” I said. “We go together.”
And just like that, Nicholas and I were over. Not with a tear, not with a scream, but with just clean, precise closure.
I turned to James one last time.
“There’s one more favor,” I said quietly. “And it’s not something I can bring with me.”
James inclined his head.
I continued, “Keep an eye on Nicholas. Whether he dies tangled up in Valerie’s bed or wakes up chasing his tenth mistress, I don’t care. Just make sure he never shows his face in front of us again.”
James then gave a solemn nod as we stepped into the cars.
After that, the convoy pulled out of the estate like a fleet of warships, slicing through the city with a quiet, unstoppable force.
I leaned back into the leather seat, eyes drifting closed for a moment.
After tonight, the wealthiest man in the city won’t be a Vanderbilt.
Whatever mess Nicholas made of the empire, he and his blushing bride can mop it up together.
...
