Chapter 3

I walked out of the room first.

Jameson quickly followed me into the hallway and grabbed my hand.

Seeing my deadpan expression, he let out an awkward, nervous laugh. "Honey... I haven't seen you post any of your cooking pictures on Insta lately.

"It's been so long since I've had your food. I want pancakes tomorrow morning too. Mind if I help you make them?

"We can take some nice family photos, and you can post them on your feed. You used to love doing that, remember? You always..."

I ripped my hand out of his grip.

"Family?" I sneered. "Does that include Maya?"

To be honest, the incident in the lounge with Maya wasn't the point of no return.

Jameson and I had a few explosive arguments, but I thought our marriage could still be salvaged.

We had years of history, and Jameson was a pro at damage control.

He insisted he was just a supportive boss and that Maya wasn't getting any special treatment.

To prove his "innocence," he even hauled her to our house to apologize.

He was brutal with her in front of me, tearing her down to show whose side he was on.

Then I saw her. She was just a young girl, trembling and sobbing about her mounting student loans and a sick family member.

She played the "struggling underdog" card so well that I couldn't bring myself to be the villain.

I backed off and settled for her being transferred to a different department.

Jameson swore they were done, and I figured that continuing to pick at the wound would only poison our future.

But my silence didn't make Maya humble, and Jameson wasn't nearly as clean as he claimed to be.

Six months ago, Maya decided to play "cool aunt" to my daughter, Bonnie.

Without my permission, she picked Bonnie up from school and gave her mango cake.

She had no idea Bonnie was severely allergic.

When Bonnie started struggling to breathe, Maya panicked.

Instead of calling for help, she tried some botched "first aid" in the restroom because she was terrified of Jameson finding out.

Anaphylaxis isn't something you can fix with a frantic Heimlich maneuver; her incompetence only made the suffocation worse.

By the time Bonnie collapsed, Maya finally started screaming.

In the chaos, a male employee tried to revive Bonnie with so much force that he broke two of her ribs.

If a coworker hadn't had an EpiPen on hand, and if the hospital weren't five minutes away, I would have lost my daughter.

I didn't sleep for three days while I sat by Bonnie's hospital bed.

The moment she was stable enough to speak, I went to the office to find Maya.

I dragged her into the restroom and used a baseball bat I'd brought along to break her arm.

I was ready to swing again when Jameson burst in and shoved me away.

I slammed into the counter, my lower back going numb instantly.

Jameson didn't even look at me. He just gathered Maya into his arms, staring at me as if I were a monster.

"It was an accident! Why are you acting like a lunatic?" he barked. "I already fired Alister Thorne. What more do you want?"

Alister was the man who tried to save Bonnie. He was a company veteran who had been with us since the startup days.

I stared at him, breathless. "You fired Alister?

"Maya is the one who lied and took her. Alister was just trying to help, and you fired him?"

"Enough!" Jameson snapped, his face twisted with irritation. "You're just looking for an excuse to harass Maya."

He looked down at the sobbing girl in his arms with pity, then back at me with pure disgust. "Della, I told you there's nothing between us.

"Have you ever actually caught us doing anything?

"Do we really have to put up with your constant accusations just because she's my assistant?

"But since you're so determined to treat us like we're having an affair, fine. I'll give you what you want."

He leaned down and kissed Maya right in front of me.

Maya's face—which had been pale—was now flushed with a deep blush.

When he pulled away, his voice was low and raspy. "If I'm going to be accused anyway, I might as well make it true.

"It saves you the trouble of constantly testing me. And for the record, your daughter is your responsibility. Nobody else is obligated to memorize her medical history.

"Alister took the fall for your failure as a mother, so stop acting like a saint."

I stood there frozen, a wave of physical nausea hitting me.

But it was his final words that cut the deepest.

Your daughter? As if she wasn't his, too.