No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1319

"Hey, Faye. Miss me?" Horace's teasing voice came from the other end.

Faye's eyes flashed with hatred, but her voice was calm. "Horace, my dad found out about the evidence you have on him. He's willing to pay five million dollars in cash for it."

"What? Five million?" Horace's voice shot up several octaves, filled with disbelieving ecstasy. "For real? Faye, you're not messing with me, are you?"

"Why would I mess with you?" Faye whispered. "Horace, my dad is divorcing my mom. His money isn't going to be mine anyway, so you might as well take as much as you can get."

"Okay, okay, no problem!" Horace was thrilled. Five million dollars was an absolute windfall for him.

-

Around nine that night, at an abandoned pier, the area was deserted.

Roland arrived on time, waiting in the driver's seat of his car. A few moments later, a sedan pulled up, and his former subordinate, Horace, got out.

The thought of this young man betraying him made Roland want to kill him.

Seeing Roland get out of his car, Horace still offered a respectful greeting. "Mr. Yeaton, you're here."

It seemed Faye hadn't lied. He was really going to get five million dollars tonight.

Roland was carrying a small briefcase. He walked over, and Horace, though slightly puzzled by the size of the case, asked eagerly, "Mr. Yeaton, did you bring the money?"

Roland tossed the briefcase to him. "Three hundred thousand," he said coldly. "Take the money, and give me the recordings and all the copies of the evidence."

Horace's smile froze. He opened the case and saw that it indeed contained only three hundred thousand dollars, a far cry from the five million Faye had mentioned. A surge of rage at being played for a fool shot through him.

A deafening crash tore through the silence.

Horace's car had no time to move. The massive impact sent it, with him inside, sliding backward, smashing through the flimsy guardrail at the edge of the pier and plummeting toward the dark river below.

The icy water instantly swallowed the car and Horace along with it.

Faye's father slammed on the brakes. His face was a mask of grim viciousness as he got out and stared at the now-calm surface of the river. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, he acted as if nothing had happened, got back in his car, and drove away.

Now, he could finally rest easy.

He had no idea, however, that after his car was gone, Faye emerged from the shadows, clutching her phone, her body still trembling from the shock.

She took several deep breaths. For her, this outcome was a form of liberation. She was no longer under Horace's control. But she hadn't known her father's ruthlessness ran this deep.