Chapter 4

James walked in carrying a bowl of warm chicken soup on a tray. "Ms. Evans, you haven't eaten all day. You should have something."

I picked up the spoon and stirred it slowly, watching the steam curl upward.

For ten years, I had lived on cheap fast food, worn clothes from thrift stores, and slept in a run-down apartment with peeling walls.

It wasn't because I couldn't afford better. I was punishing myself for being so stupid and naive.

But the punishment was over now, and it was someone else's turn.

"Have they found Charles?" I asked.

"Not yet," James replied. "He's clever. He pulled every string he had and went into hiding. But Lindsay's people have already closed the net around him. He won't get far."

"Good." I set the bowl down. "Tell Lindsay there's no rush to bring him in. Let him enjoy his freedom for a few more days. Wait until he puts all his hope on one last person, and then make the move."

James paused for a moment, and then understanding crossed his face. "Yes, Ms. Evans."

The next two days passed without incident.

I spent my mornings walking through the garden, feeding the koi, and reading in the shade, as if the storm raging beyond these walls had nothing to do with me.

On the evening of the third day, I was trimming the roses when James came hurrying across the lawn. "Ms. Evans, they're here."

I knew exactly who "they" meant.

I set the shears down and wiped my hands. "Let them in."

It wasn't long before a commotion of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder with each step.

Security escorted Charles and Sophie right to where I stood.

I hadn't seen them in days, but they looked like they'd aged a decade.

Charles was a wreck. The man who once carried himself like a polished business mogul now stood before me with stubble crawling across his jaw and eyes that couldn't stay still.

Sophie looked even worse. She clung to Charles' arm, and the look she gave me was pure venom laced with disbelief.

Charles stared at the grand estate behind me, then at the designer dress I was wearing. It looked simple enough, but anyone with taste would know it cost a fortune. His mouth hung open. "Julia, how is this possible? That rundown house."

Sophie's face went blank. "No way," she muttered. "This can't be real."

I smiled, "Charles. It's been a while."

Something clicked behind his eyes, and he jabbed a finger at me, his voice shaking. "It was you! You set this whole thing up! You knew all along, didn't you?"

His face twisted with the kind of rage that only comes from being played and knowing it.

Sophie screamed, "Julia! You lying bitch! You've been playing us this entire time!"

She lunged at me as a woman possessed, but security caught her before she got close.

Then Charles went still. He locked his eyes on mine, and I could see something shift in him. It was the look of a man with nothing left to lose. "Well played, Julia."

He pulled Sophie back before she could throw another fit, took a deep breath, and let his shoulders drop. All the fight drained out of his voice. "You win. But so what? Half of everything was supposed to be mine."

Then he switched tactics and started grasping at straws. "Sure, we signed a divorce agreement, but it doesn't take effect for another ten years! Everything you've earned in that time is marital property, Julia. I want half!"

He clung to that last lifeline, and the greed in his eyes flared back to life.

Sophie jumped right in. "That's right, half! Or we'll take you to court!"

They thought they could control me.

I looked at their smug, desperate faces, and all I saw were two animals caught in a trap.

I didn't say a word. I just took a folder from James and tossed it at Charles' feet.

"Marital property?" My voice was barely above a whisper. "Charles, take a good look.

"The day after we signed that agreement ten years ago, I filed for divorce with the court. And the ruling was finalized the first time you moved Sophie into that penthouse of yours.

"Legally, we stopped being married a long time ago."