"How can you do this to her and not feel a shred of guilt? Do you have any idea what cyber-harassment does to a woman?"

I stood frozen in the doorway, my voice hollow. "What are you talking about?"

He hurled his phone at me. It struck my brow bone dead-on. A sharp, splitting pain exploded across my forehead, and I crouched down, pressing both hands to the spot.

"Playing innocent? Leonora, I thought you knew your place. Using your cutthroat business tactics on a girl with no one in her corner. You really think you can bully her just because she has nobody to protect her?"

I felt something warm seeping from the gash, running down and blurring the vision in one eye. I didn't bother wiping it away. All I could manage was to open my mouth in my own defense. "I didn't do anything."

Warren rose to his feet. "I'm giving you one night. If you don't go online tonight, clear her name, and make those trending topics disappear, tomorrow I'll handle it myself."

"Leonora, God sees everything you do. Yvonne has it hard enough already. She has nothing. All she wants is a little bit of love. Can't you even let her have that?"

"I gave you the title of Mrs. Henson. You've lived in luxury. You have no idea how difficult her life has been."

I bit back the searing pain and let out a bitter laugh. Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the man across from me, the man I'd been married to for nearly ten years.

The man who once looked at me like I was the only person in the world now regarded me with nothing but disgust and impatience.

"All she wants is a little bit of love?" I echoed. "Another woman's husband's love?"

"Warren, the internet got it right. She is the other woman. She is your kept mistress."

Warren erupted. He lunged forward, shoved me against the wall. My lower back slammed into the edge of the cabinet, and his hand closed around my throat. "So you admit it, Leonora. You're the one behind all of this."

"Yvonne is not the other woman. Whoever I love is my rightful partner."

"Isn't there a saying online? 'The one who isn't loved is the real third wheel.'"