. It was a "temporary maneuver," he said, to appease h
ced me to give my blood to save her, thre
" and expected me to wait
ood his pragmatic wif
queen-the one who would take his cro
pte
Ramire
of our company's founding, in the penthouse apartment our s
at. My eyes were fixed on the bold text: Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. Below, our
, as if he were discussing a minor dip in quarterly ea
e crystal champagne flutes, the panoramic view of the city we had conquered, Kyle's handsome, treacherous face-it all blurred into a nauseating smear of light and lies. Five ye
cause of my condition." My inability to carry a child to term. A wound so deep we had architected our entire future
gaze dropping to the flickering can
ing to find a foothold in a reality that was crumbling beneath me. This was a strategy. A cruel, ela
low, persuasive cadence he used to charm investors. "She needs to feel secure. A contract. Once the baby is born and a proper trust is
he first line on the map of our shared empire. He was gone. A cold, calculating stranger wore his face. "You want m
ely deaf to the hurricane of my breaking heart. "Think of it as a strategic investment in
m in your risk man
covering mine. His touch, once my sanctuary, felt like th
face. "Aimee, we built this compa
ud in the opulent silence. "You're having a baby with another woman!
Look, in a year, maybe two, I'll arrange a quiet divorce from her. I'
chaos in my mind. "And what happens to her? To yo
a trust fund. It's what men in my position do. It's pragmatic." He leaned back, the picture of detached reason. "And to show my commitment to our partne
ind, brilliant man I loved hadn't been corrupted by success; he had been
ddenly, eerily calm. "Did you expect me to thank
"I expected you to understand what's at stake. I still love y
canopy of stars, was a fresh stab of pain. He loved my mind, my ambition, my utili
my voice flat, dead. "
ry ghosting on his lips. He thought he'd won. He thought I would fold, as I always did, for the good of th
t the screen, and his entire face transformed. The cold CEO melted away, replace
ice a soft caress. "No, of course you're not bo
orry he hadn't shown for me in years. He was looking at his phon
ou are. I'm on my way." He stood, pocketing his phone, his
calling a minor loose end. "Just sign it, Ai
reckage. The untouched anniversary dinner sat on
for m
m my chest. It was the sound of a queen realizin
he gold-plated pen, and walked out of that penthouse. I l
'd leased under a shell corporation two years ago. My failsafe. The city lights blurred past, n
k. Kyle had just handed me a declaration of war. And he had no idea