He Cheated With My Enemy, I Ruin Him

Everyone in Crestport knew that Landon Hale loved his wife, Natalie Mercer, more than life itself. He'd walk around with fresh bite marks on his neck, showing them off with shameless pride. "Even the bite marks my Nat leaves are prettier than anything else." He'd hire skywriters to scrawl love notes across Crestport Bay, day after day, for the whole city to see. He'd even s***h five percent off a business deal just because a partner remarked, "Mr. Hale must be the most devoted husband alive." So when news came that he'd been kidn*pped, Natalie Mercer didn't think twice before leading a team to rescue him. But when she burst through the door, what she found was Landon pinning Fiona Langley beneath him. The woman's eyes glistened with tears, her fingers clutching at Landon's sleeve as she begged for mercy. But Landon only let out a low, hoarse laugh. "Don't run from me, baby." Blood rushed to Natalie's head. She snatched a stun baton from one of her bodyguards and hurled it at the tangled figures on the bed. The baton grazed past Landon's ear and shattered a wine bottle on the nightstand, finally startling the two apart. Landon pulled the sheets over Fiona. His bare chest still glistened with sweat, and the trail of red marks across his skin burned into Natalie's eyes like a brand. He took his time shrugging on a black silk shirt, fastening each button one by one. Then he walked over to her, reached out, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why are you upset? They're all just flings. You're the only one I've ever loved." Natalie stared at this man she had loved for ten years. Those fox-like eyes that once made her fall were still as striking as ever. Those broad shoulders that had shielded her from every storm for over a decade now made her feel cold to the bone. They'd met at seven. At sixteen, they fought side by side through their families' trials. At twenty-two, they'd held guns to their own fathers' heads, driven out the mistresses, and clawed back their family empires from the uncles who'd been circling like vultures. Everyone in Crestport knew them as the "mad couple"—the pair no one dared cross. But all of that changed two months ago, when he came back from a business trip. First, he'd devoured her for seven straight days and nights. Then one morning, he told her coldly, "Nat, I'm bored. I want to try someone else." It wasn't until this moment that Natalie finally woke up to the meaning of those words. Landon had truly changed. But why did it have to be Fiona Langley? She was the daughter of the woman who drove both their mothers to drown themselves—the woman whose body was never recovered. Fiona was their shared enemy. Landon saw the deadness in her eyes and tried to ease the tension, reaching for her face. "Stop making a scene, alright?" Natalie jerked away and slapped him hard across the face. Before Landon could react, Fiona spoke up first. "How could you hit Landon like that? With that temper of yours, no wonder he's had enough..." "You're a bastard child born to a homewrecker. You don't get to call me sister." Before the words had fully left her mouth, Natalie had already drawn the micro-pistol concealed in her necklace pendant. The muzzle aimed squarely between Fiona's brows. Fiona's tears spilled over instantly, and she turned her pitiful gaze toward Landon. Tenderness flooded the man's eyes. He reached over and gently pressed Natalie's gun down. "Enough. Fiona's timid—she's not like you." He paused, his voice dropping a few degrees. "She actually knows how to cry." Natalie stared at him, the pain in her chest tearing her apart from the inside. Years ago, they'd been set up by their uncles and captured by their men. One of them had pressed a gun to Landon's bloodied face and sneered at her as she sobbed. "Keep crying, and I'll put a bullet in his skull." From that moment on, keeping Landon alive became the only thing that mattered. She never cried again. After they were rescued, Landon made every last one of those men disappear from Crestport. He'd held her tight and whispered a promise in her ear. "Nat, it's okay that you can't cry. I'll never give you a reason to." The words still echoed, but the man behind them had become someone else entirely. Fiona's smug voice pierced through like a needle. "Who could ever love a cold-blooded monster like you? You held a gun to your own father's head. You can't even shed a tear. Landon's been sick of you for ages." Seeing Natalie reach for her gun again, Landon seized her wrist, his tone hardening. "Nat. Don't be childish." He turned to take the contract from his bodyguard—the one that had been delivered as "ransom." A transfer agreement for fifty-one percent of Mercer Corp's shares. Fiona sauntered over in her silk robe, snatching the contract first. She lifted her chin at Natalie. "Mercer Corp is mine now. You can take the man, though." She blinked, then sighed lightly. "Of course, if he doesn't want to leave, there's nothing I can do about that. It's not my fault you can't keep a man. Just like your dead mother couldn't." "Ahhh—!" A shrill scream tore through the room. Fiona's triumphant face twisted in agony. The contract in her hands ignited without a visible flame—pale blue fire crawled up her fingertips, and the searing pain made her fling the document to the floor. Landon grabbed a fire extinguisher, his brow furrowed. "You used white phosphorus? That's vicious, Nat." A bodyguard quickly spoke up. "Mr. Hale, this was your standing order—white phosphorus for hostage situations..." "Shut up!" Landon's voice was barely controlled. "Fiona was just joking around. Everyone involved in this will be punished." He scooped Fiona into his arms and strode toward the door. Tears streamed down her face. "My hand hurts so much... Landon, you have to make her pay. Don't let her get away with this..." His footsteps faded, but his gentle promise carried back clearly. "I won't. I promise." "Landon Hale!" Natalie's voice was raw. "Have you forgotten what she and her mother did?" Landon stopped. He turned, his expression calm. "Nat, what happened between our parents' generation has nothing to do with Fiona. I understand my father now. My mother was too sensitive back then. Even if my father treated them differently, it didn't mean he didn't love her. We were young. We saw things too simply." Rage surged through Natalie's chest, scorching her throat. She let out a cold laugh, her clenched fingers trembling. Her voice was steel. "Take me to the Aldridges." When she saw Shane Aldridge, Natalie didn't waste time. "I want to buy that private island under your name. I'll trade you the property in the North District." Shane nearly knocked over his teacup. "You're not planning to hide out there so Landon can't find you, are you? Everyone knows he's obsessed with you. I can barely meet you in private without worrying he'll lose his mind over it. The Hales have connections on both sides of the law—if he snaps, I can't afford to get caught in the crossfire." A faint, mocking smile crossed Natalie's lips. "It's not for me." Shane relaxed and signed the transfer papers. "Isn't today your third wedding anniversary? Where's that devoted husband of yours?" Natalie's hand trembled slightly around the contract, but her eyes were ice. "I also need two custom disappearances arranged. Name your price." She dipped her finger in tea and wrote two names on the table. Shane leaned in to look. His pupils contracted sharply, and he drew in a sharp breath.