You Cannot Afford Your Divorced Wife Now

nsation deep in her abdomen that pulsed with every shallow breat

was a familiar, sterile white. The

ght, an instinct so power

ab

over her. The bassinet beside her bed was empty.

an the sweat on her ski

er voice was

led cry escaped her lips as she fell back against the pillows, her muscl

e your ener

nd devoid of warmth. It was the voice he used in boardrooms, not

a mask of indifference. Behind him, clutching his arm, was Hayden Figueroa.

ell? Is she okay?" Pan

f papers onto the bed beside her. They slid ac

e Agre

for Sol

onsensical. This had to be a nigh

ed, her gaze flicking from the pa

id. "You're leaving.

n Jeremey's shoulder. "Jeremey, please, don't

ed. She looked at Hayden, then ba

you did. You couldn't stand the thought of me carin

lements' you put in her tea, she can never have chi

rous, that Adeline could only stare. "

one. He leaned forward, his hands braced on the mattress on either side of her. "So now, her life w

free, hot against her cold skin. "It's a lie.

open a leather-bound folder. It was their pre

ble bodily harm to a family member or their designated associate'-in this case, Hayden-'they shall f

Every smile, every shared meal, eve

, a spark of defiance flickeri

ssistant, Miles, who stood silently by the do

essed

he camera, pouring tea for Hayden. The angle was poor, the quality grainy, but it clearly showed her tipping a small v

ney. I'll press charges for aggravated assault. I'll drag your name through the mud until everyone in this country believes you

own reputation. For Isabell. She couldn'

gth evaporated, leaving

pen and pressed it into her trembling han

eye and landed on the sign

te her name. Adeline Garrett. Each lette

he felt a profound emptiness, as if her

t give her a second glance. He turned, wrapped a pro

over her shoulder. Her face, hidden from Jere

re, triumphant mali

hey we

guards stepped

r personal belongings, ma'am," one

her teeth, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the mattress for support. The pain was a dull, constant throb. S

had arrived in what felt like a lifetime ago. They

y photos on the walls, past the rooms filled with

Airport. Miles Proctor got out of the dri

class ticket to a small, ins

zen, per the prenuptial agreement," Miles said,

away, leaving her on the curb of

rport a distant hum. The tears were gone

, then let it slip from her fingers.

walk into

er core. She kept one hand pressed against her side, a futile attempt to hold herself together as she made her

her. The driver got out, bowed his hea

leather interior, he handed her a

a number

nected on th

e said, her voic

nals. It drove her not to a gate, but to a p

a Gulfstream G650 sat waiting. Its engines

take its