“Because Lila was his favorite. Because she got special treatment. Anyone else and he wouldn’t have remembered.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Here’s what you don’tunderstand. This isn’t revenge. This is justice. She’s gotten away with being selfish and careless her whole life. Never had to face consequences. Never had to struggle. Now? Now she gets to see what it feels like to have everything ripped away. To lose what matters most. To be helpless while the world watches.”
“That’s not justice,” Beau said. “That’s cruelty.”
“No. Cruelty was watching her throw away opportunities while I begged for help. Cruelty was getting expelled while she sailed through to graduation. Cruelty was building her perfect little life on the foundation of my destroyed one.” Kenzie’s voice sounded almost tender. “I’m not cruel, Beau. I’m fair. I’m just balancing the scales.”
“So what’s your plan?” Beau asked, sounding weary. “And why should I go along with it?”
“The plan is layered. Methodical.” Kenzie’s voice took on a clinical quality, like she was describing a business strategy. “First, we sabotage her work during filming. Wrong materials delivered, missed shipments, anything that makes her look incompetent on camera. The viewers need to see her fail professionally.”
“That seems risky?—“
“It’s controlled. We work with the production team. They’re already on board—they want drama. Next, we push her emotionally until she breaks on camera. We provoke her, film the meltdown, leak it to gossip sites. Create a narrative that she’s unstable, difficult to work with.”
“And you think she’ll break that easily?”
“Everyone breaks if you push the right buttons.” Kenzie smiled. “We’ll stage photos of you two together. Make it look like an affair. Throw that in with anyone she may be dating, and we can paint her as someone who prioritizes men and her TV career over her daughter. Messy. Desperate. Neglectful mother.”
“I still don’t see how that ruins her business.”
“Then we escalate.” Kenzie leaned forward. “We get her drunk. On camera or off, doesn’t matter—we’ll be recording either way. Get her talking, make her look sloppy. Feed her wine, ask leading questions about her ex, her daughter, whatever makes her vulnerable. Edit it to make her look unstable. Maybe she admits she’s overwhelmed, can’t handle single parenting. Maybe she says something about her daughter that sounds bad out of context. Doesn’t matter. We’ll find something.”
Beau shifted, crossing one foot over his knee, leaning forward. “And then what?”
“Then we make an anonymous call to Child Protective Services.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Reports of neglect. Mother prioritizing her career over her teenage daughter. Drinking problems. Emotionally unstable. All the footage we’ve created will back it up. Even if nothing comes of it officially, the investigation alone will destroy her. Her ex-husband could use it for custody. Her clients will drop her. She’ll lose everything.”
There was a long silence.
“God lord, Kenzie.” Beau’s voice was hollow. “You want to take her kid away?”
“I want her to feel what I felt. Helpless. Watching everything disappear and not being able to stop it.” Kenzie’s smile was cold. “The best part? It’ll all be public. Filmed. Her humiliation will be entertainment. By the time the show airs, she’ll have lost her business, her reputation, maybe even her daughter. And she’ll never know it was personal until it’s too late.”
“That’s not revenge. That’s psychotic.”
“This is insane,” Beau said. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I’ve been planning this for years. You think this just started?” Kenzie laughed. “I got her divorced five years ago.”
“What?”
“I had a friend. She was young, pretty, ambitious. I pulled a favor and got her an internship at Lila’s husband’s firm. Toldher to get close to him. Flirt. Make herself available. I figured it would cause problems, wreck the perfect marriage, leave her struggling. And it worked. He cheated. Left her. She was a mess.”
“Oh my God.”
“But here’s the thing. It should have destroyed her. Divorce, single mom, starting over? Most people don’t recover from that. But Lila?” Her voice turned bitter. “She built a whole business. Became more successful than ever. Thriving single mom, beloved in this little town, clients lining up. It was supposed to break her. Instead, she just … kept going.”
“So this is Plan B?”
“This is finishing what I started. Because, apparently, a failed marriage wasn’t enough. I needed something bigger. More public. More permanent.” She leaned back. “This time, I’m not leaving anything to chance. This time, she won’t bounce back. By the time I’m done, there won’t be anything left to rebuild.”
Beau’s voice was hollow. “You’re insane.”
“No. I’m thorough. And patient. I’ve been watching her for five years, waiting for the right moment.” Her smile was cold. “The TV show is perfect. Public humiliation. Documented failure. Loss of custody. She’ll lose everything that matters, and the whole world will watch it happen. And this time? She won’t recover.”
“I can’t do this,” Beau said. “This is too far.”
Kenzie leaned forward and poked her finger into Beau’s chest. “You’re the one who’ll need help if I go to the police with what you did to that girl.”
“What’re you talking about?” Beau asked. “You wouldn’t.”
