Chapter 4 - The Ex-Wife’s Revenge
Across town, inside a dimly lit corner booth of an upscale downtown lounge, Vanessa Vance slammed her martini glass down so hard the stem snapped, spilling clear alcohol across the dark mahogany table.
“What do you mean, my corporate badge is deactivated?!” Vanessa shrieked into her phone, her mascara running slightly down her cheeks from hours of hysterical crying.
On the other end of the line was Paul, her former assistant, who was currently sitting in his car outside his apartment complex, trembling with panic.
“Vanessa, you don't understand,” Paul whispered frantically. “Regional President Cole came down to the branch himself ten minutes after you were dragged out by security. He stripped me of my credentials too! They audited every single transaction we processed in the last six months. They found your personal loans, your offshore routing tags, and... and your tampering record with Daniel’s check!”
“Tampering? It wasn't tampering! It was a fake!” Vanessa insisted, her voice rising in pitch until nearby patrons turned to stare at her.
“It wasn't a fake, Vanessa!” Paul yelled back, his voice breaking under the pressure. “Did you not hear what Martin Cole said? Daniel Mercer owns the patent that Halcyon Medical bought for nearly half a billion dollars! He’s a multi-multimillionaire! He’s on the board of directors of our parent company’s venture arm! We just destroyed a check belonging to one of the richest men in the country!”
Vanessa felt the ground drop out from beneath her feet. The room seemed to spin, the ambient jazz music fading into a dull, agonizing ringing in her ears.
No. It couldn't be true. Daniel Mercer was a loser. A pathetic engineer who spent his days covered in grease in a damp garage, living off instant noodles and his mother’s meager pension. She had left him precisely because he was a dead-end investment.
“He... he drove a ten-year-old Honda Civic,” Vanessa whispered, her voice shaking uncontrollably. “He wore sweaters with holes in the elbows. He didn't even have health insurance when we split up!”
“Because he was pouring every single dime into his research, Vanessa!” Paul snapped. “And now he’s got half a billion dollars, and we’re blacklisted from the entire banking industry for life. HR just sent out an industry-wide memo flagging our social security numbers for criminal investigation!”
The phone went dead as Paul hung up on her.
Vanessa sat frozen in the booth, the shattered martini glass sparkling under the dim neon lights. Her phone buzzed again—a notification from her landlord stating that her apartment lease had been flagged for default due to employment termination.
A shadow fell across her table. She looked up, expecting a waiter or a manager asking her to leave.
Instead, standing before her was a tall, impeccably dressed man in a charcoal Brioni suit. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes carried a predatory, cold intelligence. It was Richard Thorne, the district director she had left Daniel for—the man she thought had all the wealth and power in the world.
Richard pulled out the opposite chair and sat down without being invited. He didn't look at her with affection or pity. His expression was pure poison.
“Richard,” Vanessa breathed, clutching at a straw of hope. “Thank God. You heard what happened? That loser Daniel Mercer—he framed me! He pulled some kind of corporate scam to—impersonate—urgh!”
Richard raised his hand, cutting her off with a sharp slap that echoed across the lounge. The sharp crack silenced the entire bar.
Vanessa gasped, touching her burning cheek in stunned disbelief. “Richard? What... what are you doing?”
“You stupid, arrogant bitch,” Richard hissed, leaning across the table, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “You didn't just ruin your own career. Halcyon Medical is my primary corporate client. Their executive board just pulled our entire multi-million-dollar wealth management contract because of your petty, vindictive stunt at the bank.”
“Your... your contract?” Vanessa whispered, horror dawning on her.
“Yes, my contract!” Richard snarled, standing up and towering over her. “I am being fired by executive decree as of twenty minutes ago. My career is over, my accounts are frozen, and my firm is suing me for gross incompetence. And it’s all because you couldn't resist torturing your ex-husband!”
Richard tossed his platinum corporate card onto the table, right into the puddle of spilled martini.
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“We are done, Vanessa,” he said coldly, turning his back on her. “Don't ever call my phone again, or I’ll make sure you spend the next ten years in a federal penitentiary.”
Vanessa sat alone in the dark booth, the weight of her entire world collapsing around her. The man she had abandoned two years ago with mocking laughter was now a titan of industry, and she had just thrown herself into an abyss from which there was no return.
