Before I even lost consciousness, someone from Faye’s side sent over a divorce agreement.
So it was true. When a woman decides to be ruthless, she moves fast.
I tossed it to the nearest bodyguard. “Burn it.”
I am a stubborn man.
As a child, when my mother threatened to beat me to death if I didn’t obey, I stiffened my neck and chose death.
As an adult, when I swore to live and die with Faye, I limped into the enemy’s den with a machete to rescue her.
And now, since I’d made it clear the last divorce negotiation was her final opportunity, and since she refused, my marriage would only end in widowhood, not divorce.
...
When I woke up, Harvey had already been discharged safely. He sent over a file.
My bodyguard handed me a handwritten letter.
His script was sharp, each stroke thick with arrogance.
[Did you really think Faye still had feelings for you? Curious why she loves me and not you? Perhaps you don’t even know who I really am? There’s a surprise for you.]
I tore open the folder. My breath caught.
