After returning from Northgate University, Marjorie slept for two full days at the villa.

She was exhausted.

The hatred for Christian, the pain of the past, the fury of betrayal. These tangled emotions wound around her heart like a thousand threads pulled tight, leaving her barely able to breathe.

When she finally woke, Marjorie stretched and drew two heavy circles on the calendar.

Two more days. In two days, Scarface would deliver on his promise, and she'd have a front-row seat to the show.

By then, Christian's reputation in this country would be in ruins, and she'd be settling into a new life in Switzerland, one that was entirely her own.

The thought alone made her feel lighter than she had in months.

She ate a quick breakfast and started packing.

The villa was full of gifts Christian had given her over the years.

She'd once treated them like reasons to keep living. After their "reconciliation," she'd rushed to move every last one into Hillside Villa, where she could look at them daily, savoring the memories.

Now, the sight of them turned her stomach.

A yellow teddy bear, his gift for her tenth birthday. Marjorie built a fire in the backyard and tossed it into the flames.

A blue preserved flower arrangement, the token he'd given her when they first got together. He'd told her his love would last as long as those flowers. Marjorie let out a cold laugh, picked up a pair of scissors, and cut the arrangement in half.

A one-carat diamond ring, his proposal gift. Marjorie held it up, turned it once in the light, and flicked it into the stream behind the villa.

By the time she'd finished disposing of the trash, it was already afternoon. Marjorie turned back toward the villa to pack her own luggage and found Christian standing in the living room.

He seemed to have just arrived. He hadn't even taken off his coat.

Marjorie didn't know why he was here. She took an instinctive step back.

"What do you want?"

Before the words had fully left her mouth, he pulled her into his arms.

The familiar scent of sandalwood filled her nose. She used to love it. Now, laced with the unmistakable trace of a woman's perfume, it made her want to gag.

"Marjorie, did you forget? I come to see you once a week."

His voice dripped with practiced tenderness. She couldn't stand another second of it. She shoved him hard and slapped him across the face.

"You cheated on me, and you still expect us to play house?"

"Why not?"

Christian turned his head with the blow. A red mark bloomed across his cheek, but he didn't look angry.

"You slept with another man, and I forgave you, didn't I? Marjorie, as long as we love each other, we can always be together. You're still living in this villa. You haven't moved out. That proves you still have feelings for me, doesn't it?"

"I know Bridget's existence upsets you. But in circles like ours, who only has one partner their whole life? Bridget and I are just dating. In my heart, Mrs. Sanchez will always be you."

His arm tightened around her as he spoke. Marjorie could barely breathe against his grip, but inside, she was laughing.

She hadn't moved out because every property under her name had been converted to liquid assets and transferred overseas.

She couldn't be bothered to rent another place, so she'd stayed here to sort through the leftover garbage.

As for the cheating, that had been his doing from start to finish. And now he had the audacity to dress it up like some noble arrangement. In two days, he'd pay the price he owed.

But none of that was something she could tell him.

Just as she was about to struggle free, his phone rang.

It was Bridget. Christian didn't bother stepping away. He answered right in front of her.

"Christian, I miss you."

Bridget's syrupy voice poured through the speaker, ringing clear through the empty villa.

Marjorie had been wondering how to get rid of him. Hearing that voice, she grabbed his sleeve and gestured toward the door, urging him to go.

She was trying to push him out. But through Christian's eyes, it looked like Marjorie was being accommodating.

He gave a self-satisfied nod, hung up the call, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

"See, Marjorie? That's the grace of a real wife. Don't worry. In my heart, you'll always come first."

She watched him leave, eager as a dog called to heel. She didn't feel sad. But something gnawed at the edges of her calm, a low hum of unease she couldn't place.

She went back to the bedroom to finish packing. It wasn't until she saw the empty jewelry box that she understood where the feeling had come from.

Her mother's jade bracelet was gone.

The only thing her mother had ever left her.

At the same moment, her phone buzzed.

An unknown number had sent her a voice message.

Marjorie tapped it open. Bridget's gloating voice spilled from the speaker.

"I threw a little tantrum with Christian and told him to bring me the thing you care about most. And guess what? He did. Your mommy's bracelet is so pretty, Marjorie. It's just a shame that something like this... breaks so easily."

Marjorie's entire body went rigid. Then every ounce of rage she'd been holding found its center, surging straight to the top of her skull until her scalp prickled and her vision blurred.

She didn't even stop to change out of her slippers. She tore out the front door, flagged down the first car she saw, and told the driver to take her to Christian's villa.

But when she arrived, the housekeeper told her Christian had already left with Bridget for an auction.

There was no time to catch her breath. She turned around and headed for the auction house.

On the way, Bridget's texts kept coming, one after another, each one more vicious than the last.

You love auctions, don't you? You were willing to auction yourself off just to win Christian back. So how about I put your mother's things on the block too?

Marjorie's fingers tightened around her phone until the case creaked. She stared at the words on the screen as if she could burn a hole straight through it.

She urged the driver to go faster. A second later, a truck barreled in from the right and slammed into the car, sending it skidding over forty feet.

The airbag deployed. The back of Marjorie's head cracked against the window, and the world tilted sideways, spinning.

Something warm slid down her face. Blood dripped onto her white dress, one drop at a time, blooming like dark, lurid flowers.

None of it mattered. She unbuckled her seatbelt, shoved the door open, and stumbled out, staggering toward the auction house.

The sight of her drew stares. Someone recognized her as the woman from the leaked affair video, and the whispers started, carried to her ears on the summer breeze.

"Isn't that the former Mrs. Sanchez? The one who cheated? She looks like she's lost it after getting dumped."

"She's probably gone crazy. How embarrassing..."

The gossip cut into her like a blade, slow and deliberate.

The auction house was only a few hundred yards away, but it felt like the longest distance she had ever walked in her life.

She made it through the doors just as the auctioneer was presenting her mother's bracelet. The bidding had already reached a hundred million dollars.

"Two hundred million!"

She screamed it with everything she had. Every head in the room turned toward her.

The auctioneer faltered, clearly not expecting a bracelet that looked so ordinary to command this kind of price. Even his voice wavered.

"Two hundred million, going once."

"Two hundred million, going twice."

"Two hundred million, going three times..."

The gavel was about to fall when a paddle shot up from the audience.

"Five hundred million!"

Marjorie's head snapped toward the voice.

Bridget sat there with one eyebrow raised, a thin smile on her lips. "I changed my mind. I want to buy it back. That's allowed, isn't it?"

Bridget was a college sophomore who couldn't even pay her own tuition without conning someone. There was no way she had that kind of money.

Marjorie's gaze shifted to the man beside her.

Christian had already seen her. He let go of Bridget's waist, rose from his seat, and walked toward Marjorie.

"Marge."

"Today's Bridget's birthday. I promised her I'd support whatever she wanted to do. So just let her have this one, okay?"

In that instant, Marjorie was certain that if rage could take physical form, the fire in her eyes would have burned straight through him.

"That bracelet is MINE! What gives you the right to take what's mine and use it to impress another woman?"

She shoved him away from her with every ounce of strength she had left, then grabbed a paddle from a nearby seat and screamed, "Six hundred million!"

Christian hadn't expected the push. He stumbled backward and barely caught himself on a chair.

The softness in his eyes when he'd first approached was gone. Only irritation remained.

"Marge, and here I was praising you this afternoon for being gracious. Turns out it was all an act. It's just a bracelet. It's Bridget's birthday. I'm not going to let her be unhappy."

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. A second later, Bridget squealed behind him.

"Christian! You just transferred ten billion dollars to me? I love you so much!"

The moment Bridget made her announcement, the entire room erupted.

Marjorie stared at Christian in disbelief. He was leaning down, pressing a kiss to Bridget's forehead.

"Something came up at the office. I need to head back." He straightened, his voice casual. "Here's ten billion to play with at the auction. Bid on whatever catches your eye. Don't hold back."

And then he left. The crowd's gazes shifted. Some looked at Bridget with naked envy. Most looked at Marjorie with contempt.

"She's already the ex-wife. Why is she even here, making a scene in front of the new girlfriend?"

"Like a leech that won't peel off..."

Marjorie clenched her fists so hard her nails broke the skin of her palms. The pain was sharp, grounding.

She'd already transferred the bulk of her assets overseas. The liquid funds she had left totaled one and a half billion. Nothing compared to the ten billion Christian had just handed Bridget like pocket change.

But she couldn't let Bridget see that.

The bracelet was the only thing her mother had left her. The only thing. She would not let it fall into the hands of someone that vile.

She drew a slow breath and forced her voice steady. "Seven hundred million."

Before the echo faded, Bridget fired back. "Eight hundred million."

They went back and forth, the numbers climbing past a billion, past twelve hundred million, past fourteen hundred million.

When Marjorie called out one and a half billion, she locked her eyes on Bridget and braced for whatever came next.

Bridget yawned. She actually yawned, stretching lazily in her seat. "Boring. I'm done. It's just a tacky old bracelet."

She stood, waving for the handler to deliver it to Marjorie.

Marjorie rushed forward to take it.

Her fingers had barely closed around the jade when Bridget's foot shot out.

Marjorie pitched forward, her body beyond her control. The bracelet flew from her hands, struck the floor, and split in two with a clean, terrible crack.

"Oh my God, she spent all that money and broke it herself!"

"Maybe she should see a doctor first? With all that blood on her head, she can't even walk straight. Brain damage, maybe?"

Bridget's laughter cut through the noise like glass. Marjorie stared at the two halves of the bracelet on the floor, rage and grief knotting so tight in her chest she couldn't breathe.

It was the only thing her mother had left her. And Bridget had destroyed it.

"Bridget Quinn, you psychopath!"

She bit down until she tasted blood and dragged herself off the ground. She hadn't even found her footing when Bridget's heel slammed into her side and sent her crashing back down.

Her forehead struck the edge of a step. The old wound from the car accident split open against the new one, and her vision went black at the edges, flickering in and out.

Then she heard Bridget's voice ring out across the hall, bright with excitement:

"It's my birthday today! You all heard, right? Christian just wired me ten billion dollars. Anyone who lands a hit on Marjorie Pruitt gets ten million. Limited supply, first come first served!"

The crowd surged to their feet like a dam had broken. Fists and shoes came from every direction.

Marjorie reached out, trying to shield the two halves of the bracelet with her body, but the mob pressed in from all sides, trampling over her.

She watched the bracelet get crushed underfoot. Four pieces. Six pieces. Fragments too small to pick up.

Her head, her back, her legs. Every part of her was covered in shoe prints.

She didn't know how long it lasted. At some point the beating stopped and the crowd drifted away, leaving Marjorie alone on the floor of the empty hall.

Her hands were slick with blood where they'd been stomped on. Her eyes had swollen nearly shut, reduced to slits.

She gathered every ounce of strength she had left and stretched her arm toward her phone, a few feet away. She needed to call the police.

The screen lit up with push notifications instead.

BREAKING: Sanchez Group CEO Christian Sanchez Exposed as Serial Cheater, Caught with College Student!

How Master Manipulator Christian Sanchez Turned His Own Wife into "The Other Woman"

Marjorie froze. Her eyes flicked to the timestamp.

The phone rang. Scarface. His voice was rough with anger.

"Ms. Pruitt, I went ahead and leaked everything on Christian Sanchez. A full day ahead of schedule. I couldn't stomach waiting any longer, not for a man that disgusting. I'm wiring back every cent you paid me. Consider it my public service."

His gruff voice echoed through the empty auction hall. Something warm flickered in Marjorie's chest.

She called herself an ambulance. After they treated her injuries at the hospital, she slipped out into the night, took a cab to the airport, and changed her ticket to the next red-eye to Switzerland.

Before the plane took off, Marjorie checked Sanchez Group's stock price one last time.

The screen was a wall of green, plummeting so fast it almost hurt to look at. A cold smile crossed her face. She snapped her SIM card in half and dropped the pieces into the trash.

She hoped Christian enjoyed his parting gift.