Chapter 9

Three hours later...

While at Mr. Natansky’s office to play him the voicemail in case he needed it, he got a phone call that was very noteworthy.

“Are you sure? Okay, well, that makes our task a bit easier, in fact. She’s been booked, printed, all of that jazz, eh? That must have been one helluva mess, too. She did what to him? Jesus fucking Christ! Well, he turned on her and her mother bailed him out without knowing it, so I suppose that there’s no honor among kidnappers, either, as well as thieves. Very well, then. I don’t suppose that she’ll get bail for murder one, will she? Yeah, I thought not. Thanks for the tip,” Yuri Natansky smiled rather wickedly, but understandably as he hung up.

“That was my ... process server, Jason S. House. He had to serve the papers on Danielle in jail, because she brutally slashed and murdered Ramone with a butcher knife. I mean, she cut him up good, too. Evidently, after her mother bailed both of them out, Danielle learned that Ramone had snitched on her to the cops. She lost her temper and cut him up good! Suffice it to say, the divorce, restraining order, and even the assault case are the least of her problems now,” Mr. Natansky shrugged now, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for either of them and not bothering to feign it, either.

Then again, neither did I. I couldn’t fake even a second of empathy or sympathy for either of them. I chuckled as I thought of the likely denial of bail, too. Yeah, Danielle was gonna have a lot more more problems, and I wasn’t done twisting the knife. After all, my decision to press charges was only part of my revenge. My urge for Ramone to turn against her helped hurt her ... and destroy him as well. My decision to tip off the cops landed him in jail where they could turn him, in fact.

It might not be as satisfying in one sense to use the authorities and the law to stick it to my wife. In another sense, however, it was all quite legal, I couldn’t be punished for it, there would be real consequences, lasting ones for Danielle, she would be publicly humiliated and unable to ever use her inheritance now, her sex life would consist of cellmates and maybe guards, and best of all, she would lose her freedom ... for good!

That was the real icing on the cake for me, what I wanted most of all. I wanted Danielle caged for the rest of her days, to never see the outside of a prison cell. I wanted her to spend the rest of her life rotting away behind bars. I wanted her to know the captivity that she forced upon me ... on steroids. I never wanted her to have her freedom ever again. She was a predator, a wild animal? Okay, then, put her in the fucking cage!

“Of course, I want the divorce pushed through in time to testify against her in court. Both times. I want to nail her ass to the wall. She wants to complain about being crucified? I’ll fucking SHOW her how crucified feels! The money is far less of an object to me than the satisfaction of seeing her in an orange jumpsuit in handcuffs, led away into the custody of the state. I never want that bitch to breathe the free air again! The next time that she leaves prison, I want it to be in a body bag or a fucking coffin!” I ranted, my hatred for that cunt showing through for real now.

I was past any pity, for myself or anyone else right now. I hated Danielle. Fuck loving her still! I wanted the bitch to suffer and suffer she would now. I took no small satisfaction in thinking that I might have helped push her past the point, making her snap when she learned how Ramone betrayed her. I wanted nothing for my estranged wife but misery, pain, loneliness, and suffering for the rest of her life.

Maybe I would send her a postcard from my wedding to Jamie. That sounded like a plan to me. That it was to be a double wedding where Michelle married Carly just made it so much better. I also wanted to make that cunt of a mother that she had, Betsy, have to sit across from her own daughter through plate glass and see her in shackles in an orange jumpsuit. I wanted her to feel the pain, embarrassment, and public humiliation of having a daughter in the slammer.

The only person that I felt sorry for was Mike, Danielle’s father, but then he barely had any kind of relationship with her at all. This would hardly make things radically worse for him, would it? If anything, it might force Danielle to accept that she had treated Mike poorly, maybe cause her to reflect on the fact that the Sun didn’t rise and shine out of Betsy’s butthole.

Okay, maybe I did feel somewhat poorly for Ramone’s folks, but then again, they were always dicks, too. He got his dickiness honestly, that one. Uncle Alberto and Aunt Nina could both bite me or blow me, as far as I cared. Maybe if they had done a better job raising the prick, he might have turned out better, so it was their own damn fault, wasn’t it?

Two hours later...

Okay, so my day hadn’t quite become the orgy that Jamie, Michelle, the others, and I had intended, but that was okay. There would be plenty of time for that in celebration of what was sure to follow. In terms of screwing, knowing that Danielle was now totally screwed by the state, without any fucking lube, well, that was a good dose of screwing as well.

It was time to visit my future ex and check up on her. One visitor at a time, of course, and alas, Danielle didn’t put either Jamie or Michelle on the visitors’ list. That was unfortunate, but hardly a surprise. There was one other real pleasant surprise as I walked past Betsy. I saw her scowling at me and I winked at her to tease or taunt her.

Betsy came entirely unglued on me, proving that the rotten apple definitely didn’t cast itself far from the tree. She rounded on me and slapped my face, prompting the guards to grab her and warn her not to engage in violence while visiting the county jail. Too many incidents like that and she could get into real trouble herself for committing assault and battery or aggravated assault or whatever they called it while on their premises.

Betsy didn’t take the hint and slapped one of the guards, at which point they arrested her on the spot for assaulting a correctional officer. That was a felony, wasn’t it? I smirked as I pictured mother and daughter possibly going to the same damn prison for years to come. Betsy wasn’t that old, but she wasn’t a spring chicken, either. She would lose a lot of time and come out much older once released from either state or federal prison.

Of course, I was far from done with my revenge, as I proved when they led me into the room to speak to Danielle at last. She looked rough, too, not her usual level of beauty. Still, she was a very attractive woman in her own way, wavy, auburn hair, freckles, hazel eyes, pouty lips, small, but perky tits, fine hips, firm buns, slender, petite body. For someone so destructive to other people, Danielle was small as fuck, and rather short to boot, which admittedly made her seem less threatening ... but then one recalled what she had done and how it landed her in jail.