The Art of Revenge
That joy shattered the moment she stepped into his office and heard the woman’s voice, breathless and sickeningly sweet:
“Clint, you’re amazing. I love being your lover…”
“Baby…” Clint’s voice—her Clint—groaned back, thick with lust. “You’re even better than Serena…”
Plop.
The medical papers slipped from Serena’s trembling fingers and fell to the polished floor, fluttering like broken wings.
She flung the door open—and her world collapsed.
There, tangled in bedsheets and lust, were Clint and another woman, completely naked, their bodies still slick with betrayal.