Chapter 2
"Yeah, you totally did it on purpose, but I'm not mad. Honestly, I ought to be thanking you for that," I said to Eleanor.
If Eleanor hadn't pushed me, who knew when I would've gotten my memories back or finally clawed my way out of this mess.
"As my thank you gift, my jerk of a husband—and his whole trainwreck of a family—are all yours," I added.
"Are you out of your mind after that fall, Heidi?" Jordan looked at me, disbelief written all over his face.
"You got it wrong. That fall knocked some sense into me," I shot back. "I'm divorcing you to make room for your childhood sweetheart, Jordan. Does that make you happy?"
I glanced around the table—the three women were practically glowing with delight.
But Jordan's expression shifted instantly. "No way. We're not getting divorced," he snapped.
"Heidi, don't start with this nonsense. You've lost your memory—where could you possibly go without me?" he added.
Of course, I was going back to claim my millions.
But that was one secret I wasn't about to spill to Jordan.
"Anywhere's better than here," I shot back.
When Jordan realized I was really about to walk out, he switched gears and put on a lovesick look. "Heidi, you know you're the only one in my heart. Eleanor is like a sister to me, nothing more."
I shot a glance at Eleanor, who was clinging to her bag so hard her knuckles were turning white, her face as pale as a sheet.
"Wow, talk about generous—shelling out 30 thousand dollars for your fake sister. As for Aisha, the real sister, her bags never cost more than 6000 bucks, right?" I snarked.
"You wouldn't get it, Heidi—Jordan and Eleanor have always had a special bond," Aisha snapped.
Still, she kept sneaking peeks at the designer bag in Eleanor's hand, and the longer she looked, the more jealous she got.
"Heidi, you used to be so sensible. I don't know when you became so unreasonable," Jordan muttered.
I couldn't help but laugh to myself.
If he was judging someone with amnesia and totally insecure to be sensible, then he had got some twisted standards.
Seriously, good luck finding another "sensible" person like that anywhere on earth.
"You're just a housewife with no marketable skills. What could you do without the Stark family backing you? Just stay put—I'll pretend your outburst never happened," Jordan said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jordan moving to put his hand on my shoulder. I swerved away, spun around, and gave him a swift kick.
"Don't touch me. Scram," I snarled.
Jordan landed on the ground, staring up at me in absolute shock.
Right before I left, I glanced back.
It wasn't to gloat over Jordan clutching his stomach and whining like a baby—it was to check on what was rightfully mine.
Jordan had bought this villa with my money, and sooner or later, I was taking it back.
Two years ago, I was attending a party in Ansmery when I got into a car accident.
When I woke up, I was at the Stark family's residence, with no recollection of my past.
Jordan told me he found me passed out on the side of the road, my clothes all torn up.
He played the hero, said he had feelings for me, and that his dad was dying and wanted to see him married before he passed away.
I had a bad concussion so my head was all groggy then. He half sweet-talked, half coerced me into marrying him.
He never let me leave the house to work, and Aisha and Julia were experts at making my life a living hell.
So with all that going on, I never had the time to think about just how full of holes his story was.
Like, when I first moved in with the Stark family, we were cramped up in a little two-bedroom. Then, out of nowhere, boom—we were living in a huge, three-story villa.
Moreover, when I first met Jordan, he was nothing special—just an average office drone punching the clock.
But two weeks later, he managed to whip out 1.5 million dollars to launch his own company.
At the time, I barely gave it a second thought.
But now, everything finally clicked.
Every cent he used to buy the villa and launch his business was stolen from me.
When the car accident happened, I was wearing jewelry worth millions of dollars and carrying a gift worth even more.
Jordan took me in out of pure greed.
Marrying me was never about liking me. He realized I had amnesia and used it to get a marriage certificate, just to control me and line his own pockets.
Maybe he even fantasized that once he had me under his thumb, everything I owned—the whole family fortune—would end up in his pocket.
Good thing his precious childhood sweetheart knocked some sense into me. Now I would take what was mine. As for him, he would be getting booted out for good, waiting for my payback.
When I left the villa, I didn't bother with anything else except my phone.
*****
Two hours later, I'd already settled into the swankiest hotel in Ansmery.
"Ms. Crosby, when we got to the scene two years ago, the car was already empty. We've been scouring the area all this time, but it was like you vanished into thin air. Thank god you're back," my assistant Aubree Walls reported.
She was so excited, her face practically lit up.
"Save all that for later. Right now, I need you to hook me up with the best lawyer in the city," I said.
That car accident was ancient history. It'd be difficult to get to the bottom of it now.
But more than anything, I need to settle things with the Stark family and get myself back to Esterpool, fast.
"What kind of lawyer?" Aubree asked.