Chapter 4

Early the next morning, I went to the bank.

I canceled the supplementary credit card I'd given Michael.

Then I headed to the branch where our joint account was held.

Following Olivia's instructions, I didn't close the account. I moved my share, along with every dollar I could legally touch, into a new account of my own.

For the rest, I asked for a temporary freeze, claiming there was a risk of fraud.

That way Michael wouldn't be able to pull a single dollar out of the account any time soon.

Once that was handled, I drove back to the house.

The place was quiet, and those red heels were gone from the entryway.

The two of them must have had their sweet night and left together.

I unlocked the door with my spare key. The air reeked of some unfamiliar perfume, mixed with the greasy smell of takeout.

The coffee table was littered with last night's cold, greasy leftovers.

I couldn't help but feel disgusted.

I didn't clean any of it up, and I didn't give it a second look.

I went straight upstairs and opened my walk-in closet.

It used to be my favorite room in the house, filled with clothes for every season and every bag and pair of shoes I loved.

Now it only looked like a joke at my expense.

I called in professional movers. In two hours, they packed up everything that was mine and hauled it away.

Clothes, jewelry, bags, makeup, even my favorite dinnerware.

Anything with my fingerprints on it went out the door.

When I loaded the last box into the car, I looked back at the empty house.

It was clean now, and that was an improvement.

Only then did I send Michael my first message since landing.

It was short. [I'm back. Staying at a hotel for now. I'm tired, so I'll come home in a couple of days.]

Just to keep him off guard.

I wanted him to think I was mildly annoyed that he had been out all night and needed a little space.

With his ego, he wouldn't suspect a thing.

Sure enough, he texted back in a few minutes.

Michael: [Why didn't you tell me you were coming? You must be worn out from the trip, so get some rest. I have an important dinner tonight, so I won't be able to come see you.]

No real concern, just going through the motions.

He didn't even ask which hotel I was staying at.

I snorted and switched off my phone.

Important business dinner, huh?

He was probably out with his new wife.

That afternoon, I met with my father.

He frowned as soon as he saw me. "Why are you back so suddenly? Couldn't even give me a heads-up?"

I poured him a cup of coffee without saying anything.

"Dad, I'm divorcing Michael," I said.

My father froze, then his face darkened. "What nonsense! Weren't you two always so close? Did he do something to upset you again?"

To my parents, Michael had always been the model husband, humble and polite and willing to do anything I asked.

I didn't argue. I just pulled up the video on my phone and played it for him.

My father's face went from stern, to stunned, to downright furious.

When he heard Michael say that he had already handled the divorce, he slammed his coffee cup down on the table and splashed it across his hand.

"That bastard!"

My father was shaking with rage. "The Carter family treated that boy well, and this is how he pays us back?"

I looked at him calmly. "Dad, I didn't come here to complain.

"I'm here to ask for your help to get him removed from his position as vice president at Prime Holdings."

Something sharp flickered in my father's eyes, and the anger gave way to a businessman's calm.

He asked, "What's your plan?"

I said, "Prime Holdings' biggest client is Carter Enterprises. Aren't we renewing that contract for the west side project?"

My father nodded. "We sign next week. That project is close to 30 percent of Prime Holdings' revenue this year."

I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes.

"Dad, we're not renewing it.

"And we're not stopping there. We're terminating every existing contract we have with Prime Holdings."

My father instantly understood what I meant.

This was pulling the rug out from under them.

Without the Carter Family as their biggest client, Prime Holdings' stock price would tank, and the board would be in chaos.

And that "perfect son-in-law" he personally promoted would be the first to get thrown under the bus.

"Good!" My father slammed his hand on the table, his eyes full of approval and resolve.

"If he dares to mess with my daughter, I'll make sure he ends up with nothing!"

We exchanged a glance. We knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Michael's good years were over.