This image was lost some time after publication.

It was just over a month ago that Cityfile first reported that Vanity Fair columnist Michael Wolff was having an extra-marital affair with a young woman named Victoria Floethe. Wolff wasn't in a very good mood that day, and insisted there was absolutely no truth to the tale, adding that we'd be hearing from his lawyer for spreading such filth. We never did hear from that lawyer, and Wolff subsequently confirmed our scoop to Page Six.

Late last week, however, our phone started ringing. And ringing. And ringing. Wolff, we gathered from the first frantic voicemail, was looking to talk to us. Now. In person, if possible. The calls—more than two dozen in total—have continued all week, and he's now resorted to threats: "You wrote about me. Now I'm going to write about you!" he bellowed in a recent message, before instructing us that we "better call him back." Or else what?

This image was lost some time after publication.

In fairness, it's been a rough road for Wolff since the news of his affair went public. He's now in the middle of divorce proceedings with his wife, Alison Anthoine, and his relationship with his children is strained, to put it mildly. He's also being sued for $2.5 million by his mother-in-law, which has nothing to do with his relationship with Floethe—as far as we know—but couldn't be helping matters. Worst of all—in his mind, at least—his "brand" has taken a beating.

Most people in Wolff's situation would recognize it as an opportunity for self-reflection. They'd focus on getting their lives in order. They'd seek to repair relationships with the people they've hurt. Of course, Wolff isn't most people. In fact, he seems more determined than ever to keep the narrative alive.

From what we can gather, his PR redemption strategy is multi-pronged. First off, he's no longer concealing his relationship with Floethe. In the last couple of weeks, she's accompanied him to several public events, which Wolff knew full well would make it into the press.

Yesterday, Floethe wrote a silly piece on their affair for the Spectator filled with half-truths and outright lies, in which she suggested that her affair with Wolff had only become news because the recession has turned New Yorkers into puritans. We have no idea what that means, either, but we hardly expected much from Floethe given her professional writing experience appears limited to pieces about her pursuit of older, more powerful men and trips abroad she took with older, more powerful men.

In the meantime, Wolff has been speaking with a long list of editors and writers in an attempt to change the storyline. The next stop on his redemption tour—and the reason he's been calling us incessantly—will apparently be the pages of Vanity Fair, where he's going to chronicle his "fall" from grace. Or so he says. We have doubts that Graydon Carter really wants to give Wolff's embarrassing mess any more attention, but, then again, he's probably only heard Wolff's peculiar spin. Michael Wolff, you see, is a victim.

According to several people Wolff has spoken to, it goes something like this: Cityfile only revealed his affair because Rupert Murdoch called us and gave us the information in an effort to discredit Wolff for offenses he supposedly committed when he penned the billionaire's biography. We're flattered that Wolff would think we'd be on Murdoch's speed-dial. But we imagine he has more important things to do than call "unknown" people at "unknown" websites, as Floethe put it in the Spectator.

Why wouldn't Murdoch just plant the item himself in one of his countless gossip outlets scattered throughout the globe? Because Wolff seems to think he's a "private individual," notwithstanding the fact he pens a column for one of the most prestigious magazines in the world, is the author of numerous books, is a frequent guest on cable news programs, and made a very splashy (and unsuccessful) bid to buy New York magazine a few years ago. We're fairly confident that if Murdoch wanted to destroy Wolff, he would have done it on his own and without hesitation. Wolff isn't a private individual by any stretch of the imagination. But it is refreshing to see such an unrestrained narcissist adopt a self-effacing attitude for once.

Wolff's strategy to "redeem himself" thus far has been clumsy and misguided. Having Floethe weigh in first with an especially weak defense only opened him up to ridicule. (It didn't help that Floethe posted "I AM GOSSIP GIRL" on Facebook a few hours later, as if she was positively delighted by the attention, which, we're sure, she is.) Asking for the sympathy of journalists while also suggesting a grand conspiracy is at work has made him look unhinged. And his efforts to subtly reference his own personal problems to drum up traffic to his website is sad.

On the bright side, maybe he'll finally sell some books?