Chapter 2
I picked up my phone and typed in the name of his first love, feeling a mix of curiosity and bitterness.
Her account popped up—Tina Carter, verified under her real name.
Unlike Charles, she was smart enough to keep her records intact.
She had over a million followers, and she posted videos almost every day.
Her whole feed was just her bragging about how much her husband adored her.
She put on this whole strong-female-lead act, teaching everyone how to fight back against abuse and chase after true love.
She never missed a chance to flaunt her so-called happiness online.
Never once mentioning the woman whose husband she stole.
I had just put my phone down when a woman barged into my office without even knocking.
A woman barged into my office without even knocking.
Tina Carter.
Even after ten years, I knew her the second I saw her—some faces you just never forget.
Her hair was styled to perfection, and she wore a Chanel-style suit that practically screamed luxury.
On her finger, a diamond ring sparkled like it was straight out of a jewelry commercial.
The woman who used to cower behind my husband, trembling with fear, was gone.
Now, she was a confident, polished woman who carried herself with effortless grace.
She gave me a quick once-over.
Just one glance, and she sized me up from head to toe.
"Ms. Smith, let's cut to the chase," she said, her tone sharp and direct.
She tossed a heavy canvas bag onto my desk.
It was square and solid—looked like at least 70,000 dollars in neatly stacked bills.
"Everything has a price," Tina said, her voice cool and full of confidence.
"If this isn't enough, then clearly the price just isn't high enough."
Her slender fingers drummed softly on the desk.
Pale and soft, not a single wrinkle to be found.
A far cry from my own hands.
Years of odd jobs had taken their toll.
My hands were marked by chilblains that never really healed, layers of rough calluses, and a scar left by a chemical burn.
I slid the bag of cash back across the desk to her.
"Money can't fix everything," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"I have to do my job, and I only care about the facts."
Tina shifted in her seat and set her phone down on the desk.
I saw the screen light up.
'She's recording—of course she is,' I thought to myself.
Tina looked annoyed, but tried to keep her cool as she asked me, "You say my documents aren't up to standard—at least tell me what's wrong with them."
"You say my documents aren't up to standard—at least tell me what's wrong with them."
I didn't move, my voice calm and steady.
"No reason necessary," I said.
"My decision follows the rules and the law. I don't owe you any explanation."
Tina crossed her arms and looked down her nose at me, all arrogance and disdain.
She scoffed, her laugh icy and full of contempt.
"I get it now," she said, her tone pure sarcasm.
"There are plenty of people like you online," Tina sneered.
Her tone got even sharper.
"Your marriage is a disaster, so you resent every woman who's younger and prettier than you."
"I know your type—just jealous and bitter toward anyone with more money or a better life."
"So you use that tiny bit of authority you have to make things as difficult as possible for people."
"That's the curse of women like you—old, broke, and miserable."
She pointed right at me and snarled, her words sharp as knives.
"I've got millions of fans online," she said with a smug grin.
"Just one video and you'll be out of a job before you know it."
"Go on, test me."
'I didn't feel angry, and I didn't feel the least bit humiliated.'
'Honestly, I just thought it was hilarious.'
Ten years ago, my mom was seriously ill.
To keep from upsetting her, I swallowed my pride and pleaded with Charles to stay.
He pushed me away, saying,
"Tina's not like you."
"She's too kind, too soft—she wouldn't survive without me."
But the woman standing in front of me now was nothing like the timid, fragile girl she used to be.
There wasn't a hint of kindness or weakness to be found in her anymore.
That whole gentle, obedient routine was just her way of wrapping men around her finger.
The real Tina was right here—mean, vicious, and unapologetically herself.
I ignored her completely and picked up the office phone.
"Ms. Carter, will you leave on your own, or should I call security to escort you out?" I said, my voice cold as ice.
Right on cue, a young male colleague stepped in and gestured toward the door, inviting her to leave.
Tina fixed her gaze on me, her eyes intense and unyielding.
Slowly, a hint of confusion crept across her flawless, pampered face.
"Wait, have we met somewhere before?" Tina asked, uncertainty flickering in her voice.