Chapter 8: The Fallout
The news spread fast.
By noon, Andrew had been publicly shamed, his entire empire stripped away in a single press conference.
And by evening, he was sitting in a cheap motel room wondering where it all went wrong.
"Andrew! Andrew, I need you to call your lawyers back. They're going to destroy us!" Margaret's voice crackled through the phone.
"I can't call them back if they won't answer."
"Well, find someone who will!"
"I'm trying, Mother. I'm trying."
"Trying isn't good enough! You've lost everything! Everything! How could you let that girl get away with this?"
"She's not a girl. She's my wife."
"Was your wife. And she's taken everything. Now we have nothing. Do you understand? Nothing!"
Margaret started crying again.
Andrew hung up.
He couldn't take it.
The crying. The shouting. The blame.
It was all too much.
He needed to think.
Needed to figure out how to fix this.
But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Mariana standing at that podium. Calm. Controlled. Beautiful.
And she was right about everything.
The thought made him sick.
At 9:00 PM, Andrew's phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
Meet me at the old warehouse. South side. Come alone. If you want to save what's left of your life.
Andrew stared at the message.
It could be a trap.
It could be Mariana trying to humiliate him further.
But what else did he have?
He grabbed his keys and drove.
The warehouse was dark. Empty. The kind of place where bad things happened.
Andrew stepped inside.
A single light flickered above.
And then he saw her.
"Is that you, Andrew?"
Brenda.
She was standing in the corner, wearing a heavy coat.
"What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk."
"About what?"
Brenda stepped closer.
"I've been thinking about what happened."
"Brenda, I—"
"I know. You're trying to fix it. But you can't."
"I'll find a way."
"No. You won't. Because there's nothing to find."
Andrew felt the words hit him like a punch.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm leaving. I'm not going to go down with you."
"Brenda, please—"
"I've got a new boyfriend. He's rich. Really rich. And he doesn't have a crazy ex-wife who's going to destroy everything."
Andrew stared at her.
"You used me."
"I used you? You used me! You were supposed to be rich! You were supposed to take care of me! And instead, you're broke and pathetic and you can't even hold onto your own wife!"
"You slept with me. You helped destroy my marriage."
"So what? You were already miserable. I just made it more interesting."
Andrew felt something snap.
"How dare you."
"How dare I? You never even owned a dime! You let her keep everything! You didn't even know!"
"She stole it from me!"
"She didn't steal anything. You gave it to her. You signed everything. You were just too stupid to read the fine print."
Andrew lunged.
Brenda stepped back.
The door opened.
Two security guards stepped in.
"Brenda?"
She smiled.
"This is my new boyfriend, Andrew. He's a lot richer than you."
The man stepped forward.
He was tall. Dark-haired. Piercing eyes.
"Andrew Whitmore," he said. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Who the hell are you?"
"A friend of Mariana's."
Andrew froze.
"Mariana—"
"She sends her regards."
Andrew's eyes widened.
"You did this. You both did this."
"We did nothing. You did this to yourself."
"You set me up!"
"We just helped the situation along."
"Brenda is Mariana's friend?"
"Surprise," Brenda said.
Andrew stared at her.
The woman he'd slept with. The woman he'd chosen over his wife. The woman who'd helped destroy his marriage.
She was working for Mariana the whole time.
"I'm going to kill you," he whispered.
"I don't think so," the man said.
The guards moved in.
Andrew backed away.
"You can't do this."
"We just did."
Brenda smiled one last time.
"Goodbye, Andrew."
She walked out.
The guards followed.
And Andrew was left alone.
May you like
Alone in a dark warehouse.
With nothing.
