Chapter 4 - The Mistress's Desperation
Serena Vale was not a woman used to losing, but she had never played against a Langford. Desperate to save her failing consulting firm, she made the catastrophic mistake of trying to confront me in public.
It happened two weeks later at a charity luncheon in downtown San Diego—an event my family heavily sponsored. I was sitting at the head table when Serena barged through the doors, ignoring the protests of the event staff. She looked disheveled, her designer clothes wrinkled, her eyes wide with manic desperation.
"You think you can just destroy people?!" she screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me as the entire ballroom fell dead silent. "You think because you have money you can ruin my life? Andrew loved me! He was going to leave you for me!"
I didn't stand up. I didn't raise my voice. I simply took a sip of my sparkling water and looked at her with polite pity.
"Ms. Vale," I said clearly, ensuring the silent room caught every word. "My husband's infidelities are a matter for my divorce attorney. However, the fact that you used my family's charitable foundation to embezzle DOD funds to pay for your leased Porsche and your luxury condo is a matter for the federal authorities."
The color drained from her face.
I signaled to Marcus, who stepped forward and handed Serena a thick manila folder.
"Copies of your bank statements, Ms. Vale," Marcus said coldly. "Cross-referenced with the exact times Andrew authorized your fraudulent base access. The FBI received the originals this morning."
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Serena dropped the folder. The papers scattered across the floor like dead leaves. She looked around the room, realizing that every influential person in San Diego—every investor, every military officer's spouse, every socialite—was staring at her with utter disgust.
She turned and ran out of the room, sobbing. She had tried to humiliate me, but instead, she had written her own public execution.
