Make Him Pay: My Ultimate Revenge

ceiling windows of the Hamptons villa. The bright li

ather bed. A vicious hangover pounded agains

es. He reached his hand

eets were c

nking heavily with some investors after the charity gala. Then Arielle had offere

wearing his suit trousers. There were no signs of intima

htstand. He wanted to check his phone. He neede

across the cold

r and checked the floor under the bed. The private phon

chest. He rubbed his temples, stoo

l glass staircase toward

od by the stove. She was wearing one of his oversized white

less, sweet smile spread across her face. She pic

made this for your han

eyes swept over the shirt she was w

emanded, his voice thick

vanished instantly. She replaced it with a loo

d. You accidentally knocked your phone over the railing. It fell three stories and smashed directly onto the stone

stinctively reached for the Patek Philip

al documents on it. More importantly, it

. "I had my assistant drive it straight to the Apple IT department

ran a hand through his messy hair.

e picked up the landline phone from the si

Doyle, the senior nanny, picked

the phone," Cr

ng silence on

liff... she left the apartment lat

ed a beat. But the brief moment of panic was

yelled into the receiver. "Where the he

She's been acting so strange lately. She doesn't te

the phone down o

en some garbage gossip blog online. She was throwing a tantrum. She was using this c

s pat

from his suit jacket pocket. He dia

"Pull the credit card records for Corrine. All of them.

ay, sir,"

she likes," Cristofer continued, his tone turning ruthless. "When you f

of black coffee from the counter. He drank it in one gulp. His eyes were h

im issue the orders. When he turned his back to put th

th curled up into a wi