“Does the truth matter?” Shannon asked, voice sharp with contempt. “What matters is whether the public will believe you once I put it online. One upload and the image you built over years collapses. Your company could go under. Seven hundred million a month or total ruin; which should I choose for you?”
Her words dragged up the old nightmare, that incident that had nearly destroyed me, the memory that had almost killed my parents. Now she used it like a blade, pressing the old wound until it bled again. She wanted me small and helpless once more. But, not this time. Being victimized once before taught me a lesson and I learned to put away my kindness. I would not be played twice.
Ice replaced whatever warmth I’d kept. “I’d rather go bankrupt than pay a single cent to a vicious woman like you.”
Shannon’s smile widened, predatory. “You’ve grown braver,” she said, appraising me. “Good. But I have other ways. We’ll switch to Plan B.”
Before I could react, she ripped open her shirt and hurled herself into my arms, a frantic, practiced performance. “Jerome, stop!” she screamed and then, piercing, “We’re divorced! No matter how much you try, I won’t let you touch me. Help… I’m being assaulted…”
I shoved her off, watching the act with cold distance as she collapsed to the floor and scrambled backward. “Mr. Madron, stop!” she cried, flailing. “Somebody, help me!”
Henry already had his phone up, recording. When Shannon regained her feet, he waved the screen at me. “I’ll edit this later,” he said with giggles. “If this video goes online… imagine the fallout.”
Shannon wiped at her tears, reapplied a perfect stroke of makeup and spoke casually. “Jerome, regret is the heaviest loss. You owe me for what you did. Do you think the netizens will sympathize with you? If that old footage goes public, your company won’t survive. Seven hundred million a month isn’t much. Half your profits, just what an ex-wife deserves.”
She leveled me with a stare as cold as ice. “Last chance. One minute.”
One minute passed and Henry’s face was grim. “You idiot! How dare you molest my sister? Beat him to death!”
At his signal, a pack of faces surged in from outside, relatives, allies of Shannon’s clan. They moved with the certainty of people who’d rehearsed violence. There was no escape.