"My company developed the entire Silverhill Estates!" Samuel roared, his face twisted with arrogance. "You dare take that tone with me? Who the hell do you think you are?"
Before I could recover, he kicked me hard in the chest, sending me sprawling to the floor.
"Trash." He spat the word. "Look at yourself. You're nothing. And you think you still deserve Delia?"
Delia stood nearby, arms crossed. She watched me on the floor—not with pity, but with smug satisfaction.
"I've been sick of looking at you for years, Ethan," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "A delivery boy. That's all you are. Running takeout and packages—how much do you even make? You can't even fill my gas tank."
She stepped forward, her high heel digging sharply into my chest, pinning me down.
"Three days from now, I'm marrying Samuel." Her voice was ice. "From that moment on, I'll be Mrs. Finch. As for our marriage? You won't breathe a word of it to anyone. If you do... we won't let you off lightly."
A bitter, self-deprecating laugh bubbled up in my throat.
So, the wife I had cherished above all else had been unfaithful long before today. I was the only one kept in the dark.
And yet, a pathetic part of me refused to accept it. Could three years of marriage really vanish into thin air?
Desperation clawed at my pride. I reached out, grabbing Delia's ankle. "Delia, please," I begged, my voice cracking. "Don't leave me. If you admit you're wrong right now... if you just apologize... I can pretend none of this happened. Okay?"
"Hahaha!"
Delia laughed so hard she nearly lost her balance. She shook her leg free and kicked me in the face.
"Look at you. Pathetic." She sneered. "Thank god we kept our marriage a secret. If people knew I had a trash husband like you—no, an ex-husband—where would I put my face? I'd be the joke of Harbor City."
"Kid, accept your fate," Samuel jeered. "You aren't worthy of her."
He pulled Delia into his arms, his hand sliding possessively around her waist.
"We're not heartless, though," he continued, his tone mocking. "You cooked and cleaned for Delia for three years. I'll pay you for your trouble—at the going rate for a live-in nanny."
Not worthy?
The words echoed in my mind, leaving me in a daze.
How rich. I'm not worthy of Delia Pruitt.
"Ethan Ashford." Delia's voice cut through my thoughts. "For the sake of our past."