Chapter 4

She was so furious her vision went black. It took her a long moment to steady herself before she cut straight to it. "You're not far along. Get rid of it now, while you can."

I stared at her, eyes wide with shock.

I'd expected that once Hailey heard I was pregnant, she'd urge me to keep the baby and keep squeezing Warren for child support forever.

When she heard what I'd assumed, Hailey scoffed. "I do what I do because nobody's going to guarantee my future for me. You already walked away with a fat divorce settlement. Why on earth would you have a kid? You really want to be chained to Warren for the rest of your life?"

One sentence, and everything came clear.

The knot I'd been tying myself into over the baby slowly loosened.

I hated to let go of that little life, but my future was mine.

We talked all afternoon. As I was leaving, she said, "Remember to get a lawyer. Go through the compensation in the divorce agreement and make it airtight, all of it your own private property. Don't let Warren bury some trap in there and yank everything back the second you're divorced."

I didn't think Warren was the type to pull something like that, but just to be safe, I hired a lawyer anyway.

Sorting through the assets was more of a headache than I'd imagined. Warren had given me so much that I spent every day dizzy with it, no time left even to go to the hospital for the abortion.

I'd barely finished the inventory when Hailey messaged again to say she'd found a buyer and I needed to clear the house out fast.

So I threw myself into packing and moving.

I didn't call Warren to collect his things. I just tossed all of it.

It was only while I was clearing out the study that I turned up a sealed file envelope, the Sanchez Group's official seal stamped across the front.

That, I couldn't just throw away.

I thought about it, then called Warren.

The phone rang twice before it connected, but the voice that came through wasn't Warren's. It was a woman.

"Hello? What do you want with Warren?"

Her tone wasn't friendly. She must have seen how he'd saved my number and guessed who I was.

I kept my voice level. "Hi. Could you get Mr. Sanchez for me, please? He left some things at the house he needs to come pick up."

Instead, a mocking laugh came down the line. "Freya, quit the games. Warren isn't coming back to you."

And she hung up on me.

I listened to the dial tone drone on and on, a dull ache building behind my eyes.

I tried Warren's driver next.

To my surprise, he sounded deeply uncomfortable. "Miss Freya, Miss Pruitt gave orders. You're not allowed to contact Mr. Sanchez."

That was how I learned the name of the woman who could end my marriage with a single sentence. Hildegarde Pruitt.

There was nothing for it. I'd have to deliver the sealed file to Warren's company myself.

When Warren and I got married, we'd only signed the papers, no wedding, more or less a secret marriage, so the front desk at his company didn't recognize me.

All I meant to do was drop the file off and have them pass it to Warren.

But I'd been there only a moment when the receptionist suddenly said, "Good afternoon, ma'am. Mr. Sanchez would like you to come up."

I didn't think twice. I followed her up.

The instant I stepped into Warren's office, a cup of scalding coffee came flying straight at my face.

I lurched aside, but some of it still caught me. My left arm went red with the burn.

"You cheap little slut. You love playing the mistress that much? Can't keep your claws off Warren?"

And all at once I remembered something else Hailey had told me.

She'd said, "If the woman who broke up your marriage comes after you, don't take it. You've got leverage right now. You can make their skin crawl if you want to."

So I lifted my eyes to Hildegarde and smiled. "Miss Pruitt, Warren and I haven't even cleared the cooling-off period. Our marriage certificate is still perfectly legal. Which means you're the one who's the mistress."

Hildegarde clearly hadn't expected me to fire back. The humiliation twisted into rage, and she lunged, hand already raised to slap me.

I didn't dodge. I took it full on.

She hit hard enough to split the corner of my lip, drawing blood.

Seeing me like that didn't seem to satisfy her. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and drew back her foot, aiming a vicious kick at my belly.

I hadn't thought she'd sink that low. I twisted away just in time.

The second her kick landed on empty air, I turned and ran, shouting as I went. "Miss Pruitt, please, stop hitting me! I'll divorce Warren, I'll get rid of the baby too, just stop hitting me…"

Hildegarde went wild with fury, chasing after me to shut me up, which was exactly what I wanted.

The executive floor was nearly empty, so putting on a show up there was pointless.

The elevator was too slow. I took the fire stairs instead.

By the time I reached the ground floor, I bolted straight out, pretending to trip and fall, screaming and crying in terror, and in an instant every eye in the lobby was on me.

I shouted it again, loud enough for the whole floor to hear.

"Miss Pruitt, please, stop hitting me! I'll divorce Warren, I'll get rid of the baby too, just stop hitting me…"

But the uproar I'd expected never came. The employees stayed silent at their desks, not daring to so much as breathe too loudly.

Confused, I lifted my head, and my eyes met Warren's from across the room.