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“Which stipulates that you can’t cheat. It doesn’t say anything about me.”
Horror filled her eyes. “What?”
“You heard me.” And it was mostly true. Their prenup didn’t explicitly say that he could cheat, but he doubted a judge would make the distinction. Even wife number two got a little alimony. With video proof that he’d been fucking his assistant, Joelle wouldn’t get half of his net worth, but she would get a lot more than a little alimony. If she lived. Which she wasn’t going to. “I don’t want the scandal of a divorce, but you’ve left me no choice. I can no longer trust you in my home. I’d like you to pack your things and be out of here by tomorrow evening.”
Horror became shock. “You’re throwing me out?”
“I am.”
“You can’t do that!”
He actually couldn’t, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. “Watch me.”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously, sending her diamond earrings swinging. “You will not divorce me. I won’t let you. I’ll fight you in court and I’ll win. I will destroy you. Your reputation will be in tatters by the time I’m through with you.”
Yes.This was what he wanted.
“Don’t make empty threats, Joelle.”
“They’re not empty threats! I will crucify you in the press. You’ll wish you were dead by the time I’m through with you. You’ll be sorry you ever crossed me.”
“I’m going to marry Ashley.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t marry her.”
“Watch me.”
“Over my dead body,” she said, then flounced out of the room and up the stairs.
He winced when the bedroom door slammed hard enough to knock pictures off the walls, then he took his phone and stopped the recording. It wasn’t perfect, but she’d given him a fair bit to work with.
He wished she’d threatened to kill herself. She’d done that before. Unfortunately, she had not done so today. But there were a few gems he could use.
The whore is gone. Now we can get back to normal.Both of those were good.
All the talk of destroying his reputation and him being sorry he’d crossed her was even better.
He could cut and paste and create a conversation that had actually never happened. But to someone overhearing, it would sound like Joelle was frantic, hysterical, and—hopefully—suicidal. Pair that with a convincing note—printed on the home printer, of course—and an electronic payment from her account to her “hit man”—a.k.a. the fall guy he’d chosen from his list?
The cops would conclude that Joelle had hated Ashley enough to have her killed, her body dismembered, and her remains thrown to the gators.
Problem solved.
Now for the fun part. He got to kill her himself. But he’d do that tomorrow afternoon.
No one suspected him yet. He had time to do this right.
