And the numbers. I think I know how to decode them but?—
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dashkov.”
I am buried so deep in my head that I am not paying attention to where I am going and run right into Ben, Matthias’s lawyer, as he comes striding out of his boss’s office.
“No, that was on me.” I give him a small smile, hoping he doesn’t notice my blotchy, tear-stained cheeks. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“I would understand that you would have a lot on your mind,” he assures me somberly.
“Matthias isn’t here,” I tell him. “He said he wouldn’t be back until right before the gala.”
“Ah, yes.” Ben nods, his eyes full of pity as he looks down at me. “He told me that he wanted me to drop off the paperwork for you two to sign.”
“The paperwork?—”
“I know this is a trying time, Mrs. Dashkov,” he says as he reaches into his coat pocket. “Coming out of this won’t be easy, and honestly, we all think he is making the wrong decision.” He hands me his business card. “Just know, if you ever need anything once this is all over, don’t hesitate to call.”
He walks away before I have a chance to even consider what he is saying. A heavy ball of dread drops into my stomach as I turn Ben’s card over in my hand.
I would understand that you would have a lot on your mind.
At first, I think he is referring to the gala tonight, but the mention of paperwork has my stomach twisting with unease, the ball of dread inflating by the second. I step into the office, eyeing the manila envelope Ben placed on his desk with a heavy dose of anxiety.
Jesus, this is not what I need.
Not now.
I gulp back the lump stuck in my throat, fresh tears welling in my eyes as I slowly unwind the twine holding the envelope closed.
I should have expected this, but the last week has been going so well. I never thought this was an option.
Hell, even if the last week hadn’t gone well, I didn’t think this is something he would do. It is a low, dirty blow, and he knows it.
Maybe he hasn’t told Ben he has changed his mind.
Maybe, just maybe, this is all a misunderstanding.
But as I slip the papers back into the envelope and place them back on the desk, I begin to doubt everything we’ve done since the night I told him everything.
He could have been playing me this whole time. Pretending. Getting his money’s worth. After all, he lost 5.5 million dollars because of Elias. He took me as collateral, and he has been doing nothing but collecting for it since the night he took my virginity. And now—now he is making sure to get a few last dips in before he shuts me out completely.
I tried to play his game by throwing the truth in his face. By telling him I can’t do it anymore, and that I am leaving. On the dance floor of Clover, I made my move. And when he came to me to hear me out, I thought I had finally moved a few steps ahead.
When he fucked me that night, I knew I was winning, and when he kissed me goodbye this morning, I thought I had finally won.
But the papers in his office stamped in bold red ink that read DIVORCE tell me I am the one who has been played.
thirty-three
I sit quietly in front of the vanity as Mia’s niece, Leanna, primes and prods me to near perfection. She sugars every inch of my body, tweezes my brows, oils me, moisturizes me, and who the hell knows what else she does I don’t know about.
I kind of enjoy it.
The last time I was pampered like this is the day of my sham of a wedding, and even then, it is nowhere near this extensive.
It was also just Libby and me.
My mind is still trying to decipher the handful of journal entries I don’t understand. What secret does she know that Dante doesn’t? It can’t be about Elias not being my father because Dante is well aware of my parentage. What is it that she thinks she knows?
