Clean, sharp, and sterile. The second was a dull, throbb

hite. The sheets were white. She was in a hospital

e IV drip in Seraphina's arm. "You gave us quite a scare. You have a concussion and a broken tibia,

ad paid? Before she could process this,

phina recognized her instantly: Sharon Grant, Julian's executive

ened in Seraphina's s

leum. Her face was a neutral mask. "Mrs. Astor," she said, her tone

bedside table, opened it, and produced

divorce a

one thing she had begged for, fought for, was being delivere

emotion. "He agrees to the divorce on the condition that you waive all

s. Julian's bold, arrogant signature. She felt

hand was shaking, but her signature

was everything she had

r briefcase, and turned to leave. There was no "I hope you f

inst the pillow. She was free. Bruised, broke, and battered, b

Sharon made a call. "It'

end was like ice. "Good. P

d. "Sir... are you sure this is necessary?

t her off, his voice lethal. "She w

he call, her professional

the future, a concept that had been alien to her for yea

nd smug satisfaction. She surveyed Seraphina in th

pity. "I heard you got hit by a car. And that Julian fi

let. "You see? Without the Astor name, you'r

red at her, her fa

ying her monologue. "You're the one who messed up our bu

too happy to fill with her poison. She had come to dance