No, you all found me because you’re interested in the Shelton drama. So here goes. All the speculations about me in the news are correct. Yeah, I did all that shit, and I don’t feel bad about it. I have no shame in what I did. See, I was once a damn good woman. I didn’t allow my accomplishments, my degrees, or my money to turn me into a modern woman.

There were times that I worked up to eighty hours a week and I still found time to cook my man dinner, wash his clothes, and make sure he was well satisfied in the bedroom. On nights where I was too tired to open my legs, I stayed on my knees. I apologize if that was TMI, but I wanted to prove the point that there was nothing that I wouldn’t do for my man. His needs always came first.

I gave that man 100% of me even when I wasn’t operating to my full capacity. And how did he repay me; he played me, and I couldn’t have that. Most people would say, “just move on,” but where’s the fun in that?

That man looked me in my eyes in front of God and said that he would love honor and obey me, and that was a lie. He humiliated and embarrassed me. The only thing that would make us even was some good Old Testament retribution. My ex needed to feel my pain, and I made sure he did.

You may ask if taking revenge made me feel better. The answer is no because I wasn’t seeking revenge. Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance is an act of justice. I was seeking vengeance and that damn sure made me feel great. The Bible says, vengeance is mine, and it was.

Since you’re here, get comfortable. Let’s take a look back over my life and I’m going to tell you exactly why I turned into a cutthroat bitch.

CHAPTER 1

A bright smile spread across Eden’s face when “The Husband” flashed on her phone’s screen. She saw her husband every day, slept with him every night, yet butterflies still filled her stomach as if she had just met him. Drying her hands, she tapped the green icon and answered the call.

“Hey Babe. How’s your day?” Eden asked as she mixed the ingredients for a vegetarian lasagna.

She refused to give up meat, but her husband refused to eat it. He hadn’t eaten any form of flesh since the age of twelve. After working more than twelve-hour days, it drained her to come home and cook two different meals, but she did what she had to because her man deserved whatever he wanted.

“My day has gotten better now that I’m talking to you,” Jermaine admitted.