His voice was laced with exaggerated tenderness.
"Zara, whatever you want, it's yours. As long as it makes you happy."
Zara pressed her palms to his chest in a show of bashful protest. "Stop it. Everyone's watching."
The onlookers whispered among themselves, their eyes drifting toward me one by one.
Some people looked sympathetic. Others were clearly enjoying the show.
"Isn't Mr. Harding her husband? Flirting with another woman right in front of his wife? That's bold."
"Please. Viola doesn't even seem to care. Why should we?"
"I heard Miss Fox and Mr. Harding were the real couple all along. Viola schemed to drive her away, then trapped him into marrying her."
"Well, no wonder she got cheated on. Karma."
Watching me get torn apart by the court of public opinion, Morton strolled toward me with a satisfied look on his face.
"Viola, if you just swallow your pride right now, I might consider giving you another chance."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly would you like me to do?"
Morton stood there like he'd already won. "Get on your knees and beg me not to leave you."
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
The sheer arrogance. Standing there like a king on a throne, as if he'd forgotten that everything he had came from me.
"Morton, I think it's best if my lawyer handles the rest of this conversation."
I'd already contacted an attorney the night before to file for divorce. Between the messages and photos Zara had sent me, I had more than enough to prove his infidelity during the marriage. He'd walk away with nothing.
Morton hadn't even processed what I'd said before Zara launched into her performance.
She grabbed my arm, her voice dripping with desperate sincerity. "Please, stop fighting over me. I promise I won't contact Morton anymore. Just don't be angry..."
The accusations from the crowd grew louder.
I was done with her lies. Done with the act.
I was about to expose her right there in front of everyone when a furious shout erupted from behind me.
"You! You ruined my deal last night. I'll kill you!"
I turned around.
It was the man from the parking garage, the one who'd been struggling with Zara the night before.
He had a knife in his hand, and he was charging straight at me.
