Chapter 4

"Where's the authorization for the old house?"

He stared at me, hard, like he could read something off my face.

"Void."

In front of the whole room, I set the cancellation receipt for the authorization down in front of Eric.

He'd been about to pick up the divorce papers. At those words, his hand froze in midair.

"Antonia, that project waited two years."

"You pull the authorization now, and every arrangement the board made falls apart."

I didn't answer him. I just turned to the last two pages of the authorization's attachments.

Those two pages had been deleted from the version Eric sent me, but my lawyer had pulled the complete file from the company's backups.

The so-called brand showroom was really a commercial-street redevelopment project. My mother's old house sat at the entrance, and the moment I signed, the house would be handed to the company under the name of long-term use.

And on the renovation plans, the front courtyard was the showroom. The back courtyard was a separate, self-contained residence.

The master bedroom was labeled with Monica's name.

The children's room was labeled with Humphrey James.

The room my mother had lived in while she was alive had been turned into a housekeeping room.

I turned the plans toward the guests.

"This is the brand showroom Mr. James claims will honor my mother."

"Melting down her bracelet wasn't enough. Now you want to give away the home she left behind to your son too."

The applause in the ballroom stopped completely.

A few executives who'd been smiling at the spectacle looked down the moment they made out the plans and the project number.

They might not have known the bracelet was fake, but there was no way they didn't know who was moving into that back courtyard.

Jessica reacted first.

She handed the child to the nanny and rushed over to grab the plans out of my hands.

"A broken-down house that's sat empty all these years. What's wrong with letting the child live in it?"

"Monica gave our James family a grandson. You're holding on to the position of Mrs. James, and you can't even spare them one house?"

I pulled the plans back.

"Your James family grandson. On what grounds does he live in my mother's house?"

Jessica choked on that.

Monica came forward, her eyes red, the red gown on her a lot like the toasting dress I'd worn back then.

She took off the wedding ring first, striking the pose of someone willing to give ground.

"Antonia, I don't need the house. I can give you back the ring too."

"But Humphrey did nothing wrong. He just wants a home he can go back to out in the open."

It was a clever thing to say.

As long as I refused to give up the house, I'd be the one hurting an innocent child.

I didn't argue with her. I just pulled up the processing records from the jeweler.

"You want to give your child a home, use your money, your house, your mother's keepsakes."

"Not steal mine."

The color drained from Monica's face.

Eric finally pulled me aside and lowered his voice.

He told me he and Monica had never registered the marriage, that the so-called wedding was only to placate her and his mother. No matter how many people out there acknowledged Monica, in the eyes of the law the Mrs. James would always be me.

He thought he was giving me dignity.

All I felt was sick.

"You're keeping me because I'm your wife? Or because the company needs my shares, my authorization, and my mother's old house?"

Eric's hand clenched hard.

That instant of silence was clearer than any answer.

I wrenched free of him and left the divorce papers on the tray.

"Keep the wedding rings."

"And the position of Mrs. James. I don't want it anymore."

With that, I turned and walked out of the ballroom.

Behind me, the music never started up again.