With the evidence staring him right in the face, Everard finally dropped the act.
He was silent for a long time. Then his voice turned cold and threatening.
"Iris, are you sure you really want a divorce? Every cent of Delgado money you've spent in these three years of marriage, you'll pay back."
"Otherwise, you're not walking out that door."
I was shaking with rage.
"Everard, have you lost every shred of decency?"
"This company was founded with my mother's money while she was still alive. Thirty million dollars in startup capital, every last cent from the Pruitt family!"
"For three years, I gave up my career to manage this household for you, to handle your clients, to clean up your PR disasters. How many of your company's messes did I fix?"
"And my three children... You're going to sit here and nickel-and-dime me over living expenses? How can those words even come out of your mouth?"
Everard's expression darkened, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips.
"That's all in the past. The law only cares about evidence. I'm the legal representative of the company. The shares are in my name. You don't own a single one."
"If you behave yourself, I can let you keep the title of Mrs. Delgado."
"But if you insist on a divorce, I have ways to make sure the world sees you as nothing more than a freeloader who lived in my house like an unpaid maid."
"Free maid?"
I laughed until tears spilled from my eyes, my chest aching so badly I could barely breathe.
So that was how it was. When he married me, he called me his little princess, sweet-talked me until my head was spinning.
Now that I'd outlived my usefulness, I was nothing but a free maid.
Even the three unborn children I'd carried had become innocent casualties.
Just then, Madge strolled over wearing my nightgown, the red marks on her neck obscenely vivid.
"Come on, sis, stop making a scene."
"Everard's being perfectly reasonable. You've been living here rent-free all this time. Now that you want to leave, paying back what you owe is only fair, isn't it?"
She rubbed her flat stomach with deliberate slowness. "Oh, right. You know the reason your three babies never made it? Bad luck. You can't pin that on Everard."
I stared at her, unblinking.
This was the woman who drove my mother to her death and stole her ashes. Who took my husband, seized the Pruitt family fortune, and now twisted the knife deeper into my heart.