Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You - Chapter 12: Chapter 12
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"Mr. Nelson Stanford was right… and so was Nicole. If this costs us our jobs, we're finished!"
"What do we do? What do we do? Even Mr. Stanford is terrified out of his mind!"
Quincy's self-flagellation grew louder, each slap like nails on a chalkboard. My patience snapped.
I let out a sharp scoff, fixing her with an icy stare before speaking. "Quincy, the Winslow Family has served mine loyally for generations. That's the only reason they've clung to their place in Lumeport."
"But you? You couldn't even grasp the simplest rules."
"I warned you. Because of you, the entire Winslow Family will pay."
Her face was swollen, her words slurred, yet she kept babbling apologies, begging for mercy.
I waved a dismissive hand. "Take your people and get out of my sight."
Like a prisoner granted a last-minute pardon, Quincy burst into tears, relief washing over her. She bowed frantically before the bodyguards hauled her up. Without a second glance, she scrambled away, vanishing like a rat fleeing a sinking ship.
The Winslows had ridden my family's coattails for decades, using our name to claw their way up in Lumeport. Seeing her so broken? Satisfying.
Still, one question lingered: What would my father do to them when he found out?
But that was a problem for later.
With Quincy handled, only Leonard and his pathetic entourage remained.
Without hesitation, I had Siri summon my team. In under ten minutes, the Stanford Group was locked down—no one in, no one out. Every employee was under surveillance.
I stepped toward Leonard. Sweat glistened on his forehead; his legs trembled like a fawn's.
"Leonard Stanford," I said coolly. "I warned you. I hope you don't live to regret this."
"Nicole—darling—" His voice shook.
I scoffed. "Don't. We're divorced."
I reached out, patting his shoulder. He flinched like I'd burned him.
"Leonard, what exactly did your grandfather tell you?"
"Before we married, he signed an agreement on your behalf. If you divorced me, everything the Stanfords gained through me would be reclaimed."
"You might not grasp my family's reach, but if I take it all back? The Stanford Group crumbles. Bankrupt by dawn."
"We just signed the papers. That means the prenup is now in effect."
"So, Leonard… don't say I didn't warn you."
I turned to leave.
Then—a hand clamped around my ankle, desperate.
I glanced back.
Leonard was on his knees, just like Quincy.
"Sweetheart, I was wrong! I was wrong!" he wailed.
"Quincy tricked me—I see that now! Please, forgive me!"
I stared down at him, disgust twisting in my gut.
People like him never thought before they acted.
And then? When they couldn't handle the fallout, they just dropped to their knees and begged?
As if groveling erased everything.
What a joke.
"What do we do? What do we do? Even Mr. Stanford is terrified out of his mind!"
Quincy's self-flagellation grew louder, each slap like nails on a chalkboard. My patience snapped.
I let out a sharp scoff, fixing her with an icy stare before speaking. "Quincy, the Winslow Family has served mine loyally for generations. That's the only reason they've clung to their place in Lumeport."
"But you? You couldn't even grasp the simplest rules."
"I warned you. Because of you, the entire Winslow Family will pay."
Her face was swollen, her words slurred, yet she kept babbling apologies, begging for mercy.
I waved a dismissive hand. "Take your people and get out of my sight."
Like a prisoner granted a last-minute pardon, Quincy burst into tears, relief washing over her. She bowed frantically before the bodyguards hauled her up. Without a second glance, she scrambled away, vanishing like a rat fleeing a sinking ship.
The Winslows had ridden my family's coattails for decades, using our name to claw their way up in Lumeport. Seeing her so broken? Satisfying.
Still, one question lingered: What would my father do to them when he found out?
But that was a problem for later.
With Quincy handled, only Leonard and his pathetic entourage remained.
Without hesitation, I had Siri summon my team. In under ten minutes, the Stanford Group was locked down—no one in, no one out. Every employee was under surveillance.
I stepped toward Leonard. Sweat glistened on his forehead; his legs trembled like a fawn's.
"Leonard Stanford," I said coolly. "I warned you. I hope you don't live to regret this."
"Nicole—darling—" His voice shook.
I scoffed. "Don't. We're divorced."
I reached out, patting his shoulder. He flinched like I'd burned him.
"Leonard, what exactly did your grandfather tell you?"
"Before we married, he signed an agreement on your behalf. If you divorced me, everything the Stanfords gained through me would be reclaimed."
"You might not grasp my family's reach, but if I take it all back? The Stanford Group crumbles. Bankrupt by dawn."
"We just signed the papers. That means the prenup is now in effect."
"So, Leonard… don't say I didn't warn you."
I turned to leave.
Then—a hand clamped around my ankle, desperate.
I glanced back.
Leonard was on his knees, just like Quincy.
"Sweetheart, I was wrong! I was wrong!" he wailed.
"Quincy tricked me—I see that now! Please, forgive me!"
I stared down at him, disgust twisting in my gut.
People like him never thought before they acted.
And then? When they couldn't handle the fallout, they just dropped to their knees and begged?
As if groveling erased everything.
What a joke.
End of Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You Chapter 12. Continue reading Chapter 13 or return to Sorry, Mr. Stanford, Your Wife Owns You book page.