I sent a USB containing the backup of Javon’s work phone and the recorded video to the court, filing charges against Javon and Cynthia for bigamy and intentional homicide.
Once everything was finished, I headed straight for the airport.
On the way, my phone buzzed with a message from Javon. [If you come to the hospital now and apologize to Cynthia, I can still forgive you.]
I sneered as I shut off the phone.
I didn’t need his forgiveness; I only wanted him crushed beneath my revenge.
When I didn’t respond to his messages, Javon tried calling, but the line was reported as invalid. A flicker of unease touched him, and just as he was about to send someone home to check, his assistant rushed in, breathless.
“President Davis, something happens!”
