"The Rodríguezes are known for their unnecessary pride and stupidity, so I'm not surprised," Mabel said with a sharp smile, her voice like a blade. "You should actually be on your knees, begging me to spare you from the doom about to hit you, and your average little family."
Fred laughed, the sound low and mocking. "And the Martins have always been known for having a low IQ," he fired back. "Mabel Martins Rodríguez, what were you thinking?"
"Nah," she said, lifting her chin. "It's Mabel Martins. The Rodríguez was my past from now on."
Fred shook his head in disbelief. "I've always known you were smart hell, that was one of the reasons I married you. I'll give you that. But one thing you should know…" He stepped forward, his tone shifting to a sinister softness. "…I'm way smarter, darling ex-wife."
Then he reached out and touched her cheek.
Mabel smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me."
Fred only smirked, walking to the television in the corner. He bent down, opened a small panel, and pulled something out.
Mabel's heart skipped.
Fred held it up between his fingers. A tiny CCTV camera chip.
"Was this really necessary?" he asked, tossing it at her feet.
Her eyes widened in shock. How did he know?
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said quickly, forcing her voice to stay even.
Fred threw back his head and laughed. "You're a cheap liar. And you look ugly when you lie."
Immediately her jaw clenched. "Fred—"
"You didn't even suspect this morning, did you?" he interrupted, eyes gleaming. "For months I've been distant, and then suddenly I'm acting all lovey-dovey while you're getting ready to leave the mansion. And you thought I'd turned into a romantic husband overnight?"
He burst into more laughter, the sound echoing in the room.
Mabel crossed her arms, refusing to show how unsettled she was. "Why are you talking like you're drunk? Do you think cheap words will rattle me? Stop trying."
Fred smirked wider. "Still keeping up the ignorant act, huh? Fine."
He clapped his hands twice, the door opened, his mistress stepped in, now fully dressed.
"Cleopatra," Fred said, his tone warm and mocking at the same time, "thanks for being such a useful bait." He grabbed her face and kissed her, lingering just long enough to make Mabel's stomach twist.
At that moment heat flushed through Mabel's body, but not from embarrassment. It was rage, and something worse.
Please tell me she didn't betray me.
Cleopatra's eyes flickered briefly toward her before looking away.
Fred leaned back against the bed, grinning like a predator. "You thought you were playing me? You think I didn't know about your little deals, Mabel? The people you 'hired' behind my back?"
Mabel's pulse hammered in her ears. "Fred… what are you talking about?"
"Oh, drop the act. You paid Cleopatra well to do a job for you, didn't you?" Fred's voice was rich with mockery. "You wanted her to get close to me… to trap me. But the thing about bait, darling…" He slid his arm around Cleopatra's waist. "…is that sometimes it switches sides."
Upon seeing what was going on Mabel felt her throat tighten. She looked at Cleopatra again, searching her face for any sign of loyalty. But Cleopatra just smiled faintly, avoiding her gaze.
Fred's eyes sparkled with cruel triumph. "You underestimated me, Mabel. You always have. But here's the thing, you're not the hunter in this story. You're the prey."
Mabel's fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mabel," Cleopatra said, her voice dripping with mockery. "But your husband's pay was far better, he tripled yours. And I needed the money so desperately." She leaned against Fred and kissed him slowly, like she knew it would burn Mabel inside.
Fred smirked. "I always wondered why you married me if you couldn't trust me. Yes, I had one or two flings outside, and you suspected but you never caught me. After all, I was loving you the right way when it mattered." He chuckled, shaking his head. "But no, your trust level was so low you decided to double-cross me."
He pointed at Cleopatra. "You hired a cheap slut to seduce me, and when she told you I'd be sleeping with her in our home, you didn't hesitate to plant a CCTV camera. What a smart move." His mocking tone made the words sting more than they should have.
Still Mabel stood there, her face cold, refusing to let fear show. She reminded herself, this wasn't enough for him to take the company. This only concerned their marriage. Her priority was the company now.
Then Fred tilted his head, reading her silence. "And speaking of the company…" His lips curled into a slow smile. "The last time I checked, we both had equal shares. So how did you suddenly end up with seventy percent? That's forty percent higher!"
She didn't move.
"Oh, I know how," he continued, his eyes gleaming. "You paid Maxwell and James secretly so you could buy their shares. But I guess you forgot nothing is new under the sun."
Upon hearing what Fred just said, Mabel's stomach dropped. Heat spread under her clothes. How does he know? Her agreement with Mr. James and Maxwell had been completely private, two of the most prominent board members, both sworn to secrecy.
For the first time, her shock slipped through.
Then Fred's grin widened. "I love that look on your face. That's what I've been waiting for since you started ranting."
He strolled to the television, picked up the remote, and pressed a button. The screen lit up.
Mabel's eyes darted away instantly. But the sounds made her freeze moans, laughter.
Fred laughed. "Look, you might as well watch. That's Cleopatra with Maxwell… in his car. And here." He tapped the remote. "With James, right on his office desk."
The footage shifted from scene to scene, and Fred's laughter grew louder.
"Your Cleopatra has been… very useful lately," he said, pride dripping from his tone. "I paid her to seduce your two little allies. And they fell for it, forgetting they were married men."
Mabel's chest tightened. Her plan had been flawless, until this moment.
"Not so fast, wifey," Fred said mockingly. "One more clip for you to enjoy."
He pressed the remote again.
The screen showed Maxwell on his knees in what looked like a hotel room. His voice was shaky, desperate: "I promise I won't sell my shares to Mrs. Mabel Martins Rodríguez. I vow that if I make this mistake, my nude video should be released to the public."
The clip cut, and now James was kneeling in a different location, speaking the same words almost word for word.
Then Fred continued.
"That was why your dismissed letters was sent to you, because everyone had agreed to it, so now Mabel who is the fool?"