Too Late For Regret: The Ruthless Wife

The morning sun streamed through the massive windows of the Vance estate living room.

Cora sat on the white leather sofa, her legs crossed. She held a porcelain cup of black coffee in one hand and a financial magazine in the other. She looked completely relaxed.

The heavy front doors swung open.

Leland walked in. He reeked of cheap cologne and stale alcohol. Clinging to his arm was a young woman in a skin-tight pink dress. Her blonde hair was teased high, and her makeup was heavy.

This was Brandi. Leland's mistress.

Leland had brought her to the main house to reassert his dominance after the humiliation at the wedding. He wanted to see Cora break.

Several maids were dusting the room. They froze, lowering their heads, pretending not to see the scandalous scene.

Brandi swayed her hips as she walked over to the sofa. She sat down right on the armrest next to Leland, crossing her legs to show off her thighs. She looked at Cora with a smug, challenging smirk.

Cora didn't look up. She slowly turned a page of her magazine.

Brandi's smile faltered. She hated being ignored. She dramatically raised her right hand and fluttered her fingers near her face.

"Oh, Leland, honey," Brandi cooed in a high-pitched, grating voice. "This bracelet is just so heavy. It's exhausting wearing it."

She thrust her wrist forward, right into Cora's line of sight. A thick, gold bracelet covered in diamonds glittered in the sunlight. It was shaped like a panther.

"Cartier," Brandi announced loudly, making sure the maids heard. "Limited edition. One hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Leland says I'm the only woman who deserves it." She looked at Cora's bare wrists and laughed. "I guess some wives just aren't worth the investment."

Leland puffed his chest out. He pulled a cigar from his pocket and bit the end off, waiting for Cora to burst into tears.

Cora finally lowered her magazine.

She looked at the bracelet. Her eyes locked onto the stones for exactly two seconds. With her advanced degree in gemology, it took her less than a heartbeat to spot the flaws.

Cora let out a soft, breathy laugh. She set her coffee cup down on the glass table.

She stood up and walked over to Brandi. She looked down at the mistress.

Suddenly, Cora's hand shot out. She grabbed Brandi's wrist in an iron grip.

Brandi yelped in pain. "Hey! Let go of me!"

Leland frowned and took a step forward. "Heloise, back off-"

Cora ignored him. She used her free hand to tap a manicured fingernail against the largest "diamond" on the panther's head.

"Notice the fire," Cora said. Her voice was loud and clear, carrying across the entire living room. "See how the light refracts blue and yellow? A natural South African diamond reflects white and gray. This is Moissanite. Cheap, synthetic Moissanite."

Brandi's face paled. She tried to yank her arm away, but Cora held it tight.

"It's the lighting in here!" Brandi stammered.

Cora twisted Brandi's wrist over, exposing the inside of the band. She pointed her finger at the engraved logo.

"Look closely," Cora commanded. "An authentic Cartier piece has a hidden security mark inside the 'C'. This one is blank." Cora traced the letters. "And the engraving of the logo is wrong. The tail of the letter 'r' should have a nearly imperceptible, elegant curve. This one is completely straight. It's a detail only the highest-end forgeries miss."

A maid standing near the fireplace let out a loud snort, quickly covering her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Cora delivered the final blow. She hefted the bracelet slightly. "And the weight is completely wrong. This isn't eighteen-karat gold. It's gold-plated brass. The plating is already rubbing off on the clasp."

She let go of Brandi's arm and took a step back. Reaching over to the glass coffee table, she pulled a tissue from a dispenser and meticulously wiped every single finger, looking at Brandi like she was carrying a disease.

Brandi clutched her wrist against her chest. Her face was stark white. She looked up at Leland, her eyes wide with panic. "Leland? You said..."

Leland's face went from pale to a deep, ugly crimson. The cigar fell from his lips and bounced on the rug.

He had bought the fake on the black market for five hundred dollars. He thought his stupid, uneducated wife would never know the difference. Now, he was exposed as a cheap fraud in front of his staff.

His fragile ego shattered.

"Shut up!" Leland roared at Brandi.

He lunged forward and slapped Brandi hard across the face. The sound cracked through the room.

Brandi screamed and fell onto the floor.

"Get out of my house, you stupid cow!" Leland screamed, his veins popping.

Brandi scrambled to her feet, sobbing hysterically. She ran for the front door, her heels clicking wildly. She tripped, losing one shoe, but didn't stop. The heavy door slammed shut behind her.

Leland stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily. His fists were clenched.

Cora picked up her coffee cup. She took a slow sip.

"Your taste in women," Cora said softly, "is exactly like your bank account. Cheap and fake."

She turned and walked up the grand staircase, leaving Leland standing in the ruins of his pride.