The Trophy Wife's Ruthless Revenge

Veronica stared at the offshore data. She rubbed her temples.

"The video is explosive," Veronica said. "But legally, it only proves he slept with her. It won't break the prenup."

She looked up at Keely. "Jones's lawyers will bury us. They will claim illegal surveillance. They might even sue you for invasion of privacy."

Keely did not blink.

"We need a paper trail," Veronica continued. "Legal proof of the asset transfers. And we need a long history of his misconduct."

Veronica paused. "You have to go back. You have to act like the clueless wife."

Keely nodded. "Draft the most aggressive divorce settlement you can. Hide it until I say so."

Her voice was so devoid of emotion that Veronica actually shivered.

"I know a private investigator," Veronica said. "Hall Griffin. He is expensive, and he is a ghost."

Keely pulled out her burner phone. She dialed the number Veronica wrote down.

A gruff voice answered. "Yeah?"

"Veronica Cromwell sent me," Keely said. "I am paying triple your rate upfront."

"What's the job?"

"Haden Jones and Darlene Sutton. I want eyes on them twenty-four hours a day. I want every private transaction they make."

Keely hung up. She logged into an untraceable overseas account and wired the massive retainer fee.

She put her trench coat back on. She slid a pair of oversized black sunglasses over her eyes, hiding the sharp, calculating look in them.

She walked out of the law firm. The freezing Manhattan wind hit her face.

She stepped into the crowded sidewalk, blending in perfectly.

Her personal phone buzzed in her pocket.

She pulled it out. A text from Haden lit up the screen.

Baby, did your trip go well? I miss you so much.

Keely stared at the words. Her stomach did a violent flip. The smell of his sweat and Darlene's perfume seemed to stick in her nose.

A cold, dead smile stretched across her face.

She took a breath, relaxing her facial muscles. She imagined she was still the woman who loved him.

Her thumbs flew across the screen.

Everything went perfectly. I miss you too. I'm almost home.

She hit send. She dropped the phone into her pocket and walked down the subway stairs.