Hard Copy
written by: Verity Mason
The morning after their wedding, while her groom slept, Fiona’s fingers launched a blitz of emails—each a calculated strike to exploit his influential world. His arm draped possessively over her waist; she peeled it off and slipped from the sheets.
Two years later, over dinner, she set down her fork.
“I want a divorce.”
His hand froze, the knife hovering over the steak, blood pooling on porcelain.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She dabbed at her Chanel lipstick with a napkin.
“I know.”
Her next conquest was older, richer, bound into a thirty-year marriage to the woman who’d underpinned his success. Fiona dissected Clarke’s vulnerabilities with surgical precision; when he finally shattered his bonds, they wed expeditiously.
Eighteen months later, she returned home to find him waiting, a half-finished whisky in hand.
“Maybe we should slow down,” he said.
By noon, the lawyer had him dismantled. The settlement tilted wholly in her favor.
The lights of San Francisco winked below like a million beating hearts. Behind her, a chilled bottle of Cristal.
Fiona pressed her palm to the window—the glass was cold.
So was she.
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