In a secluded little alcove, Mitch decides to drop anchor so he and Angie can swim.

Mitch suddenly climbs back into the boat and pulls anchor. The motor starts to roar. "Mitch!" Angie screams at him, her heart suddenly pounding in her ears. The boat is coming straight at her. She doesn't have time to scream before fear and survival send her plunging beneath the surface. The last thing she sees is Mitch's face through the windshield of the cockpit, his eyes, icy cold, determined; murder is his intent.

Mitch guides the boat to the next dock, her bow raising a storm of spray, her fore and mainsails straining upward. He props Angie's limp body in the cockpit before he jumps on the dock and heads to one of the shops. While inside, he pushes the button in his pocket. There is a huge explosion.

At the Oncology Wing ground-breaking ceremony, Jacyline, in her "Angie wig", stands at the back of the crowd. She listens to a thin, gaunt Mitch give his clever speech. After Mitch answers a few questions, with his familiar disingenuous smile, Jacyline speaks out from the back of the crowd, loud, and distinctively clear, "Why did you kill your wives?"

She watches his face freeze as she hears gasps from the astonished crowd. All conversation dwindles and then hushes. Her eyes almost burn a hole through her sunglasses, never taking them off Mitch's ghostly face; her gaze locks with his, never wavering, as her steps bring her closer and closer until she is standing directly in front of Mitch. Her smile broadens as she slowly raises her hand to grasp her sunglasses and pull them from her eyes.

She can't help herself; she needs to give him an earful, which is not in the plan. She says clearly, "You gained the whole world but you lost your soul; was it worth it?" He doesn't honor the statement with a retort. It seems insurmountable. He lets his cold stare say it all and holds up a cautionary hand. She watches Mitch let out a sharp breath as though he's been punched in the diaphragm. A muscle jerks in his cheek as he gasps for air and grabs his chest with a trembling hand. His shoulders stiffen, gesturing expansively. His face pales, his hollow eyes widen. Flailing about for escape seems futile as he collapses to the Podium floor.

Jacyline backs up to allow people to try to revive him, but to no avail. Her stomach flutters; her palms damp. She reads the blank stare in his eyes, unable to bear the rush of emotions; she can feel the fierce pounding of her heart in her chest, but she isn't sorry. In these great contradictions of life, but to pardon his guilt, ominous, she expels a breath of relief. Revenge for her oppressor isn't what she is looking for; it is simple justice, and self-defense. There is good and evil, reward and punishment, no vagueness distinguishing the two. She widens her shoulders and stands at full height. She feels triumphant over the indignities she's suffered, that may have destroyed a weaker person.

The taxi negotiates a turn into a driveway lined with ancient plane trees, after catching sight of the Alpilles Mountains. The lavish white and cream stone chateau with real, workable, soft blue, wood shutters is coming into view. The picturesque setting is like something from an International Magazine. There is ivy growing on the walls of the ancient, rustic chateau with its multi-pitched roof line. Among the rolling hills and crystalline lakes is this stunning French Country Manor home, surrounded by majestic trees and vibrant groupings of flowers and shrubs accenting the gorgeous setting.