Ryan looked like he'd aged ten years, but his eyes held a reckless, all-in kind of resolve.
"Fine." His voice was hollow. "I agree. The house is yours. The car money, the $200,000—I'll... I'll figure it out by tomorrow. We sign. We divorce."
"You're sure?"
I held his gaze.
"Once you sign, there's no taking it back. The bottle's yours. Everything else—including whatever debts you might rack up—has nothing to do with me."
"I've thought it through."
Mrs. Lambert rushed to answer, as if afraid her son might back out.
"Hurry up and sign! After this, you won't have the slightest thing to do with the Lyons family anymore!"
Ryan, standing beside her, nodded with a resolute look in his eyes.
Very good.
That's exactly what I wanted you to say.
