The Ex-Wife's Perfect Lie
Six years ago, a corporate acquisition deal I handled went up in flames, and 50 billion dollars vanished into thin air.
Bankrupt investors spray red paint all over my front door for a year straight. Dad died from a stroke, and Mom lost her mind and disappeared.
I ended up doing six years in prison for embezzlement. After I got out, I changed my name and started delivering food in downtown, running myself ragged for a few bucks per delivery.
But then my ex-wife, Shirley Pearce, showed up, and the entire delivery station ground to a halt.
She had become a financial powerhouse, a regular on the covers of business magazines.
Reporters blocked my delivery scooter, shoving microphones in my face. "Mr. Marcus Quinn, Ms. Pearce has been single for six years, paid off all your debts, and she's been waiting for you to come home!"
I stared at that perfectly made-up woman with her adoring eyes and felt nothing but disgust.
That so-called "devoted" ex-wife of mine? Six years ago, she had forged company seals to help her boy toy short the stock market. Then, when everything fell apart, she threw me under the bus to save herself.