I did not expect to see her humming happily as she contemplated a divorce.
“Ah, here it is. Divorce settlement. $5 million dollars. Not bad. Not bad at all. That’ll set me up nicely for a few years, maybe even longer if I invest it carefully. And there’ll be plenty for the Greenhill Rescue Society.”
The what?The name sounded vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it, not with my usual razor-sharp mind feeling fuzzy with panic.
It made me sick to my stomach that she was even contemplating a separation. Or the prenup, which I had never in a million years expected to be held to.
“I do not want to get divorced,” I said, enunciating carefully. “I just want my wife back. I want my life back. I’ll give you anything you like. I’ll delete Whitleigh’s number. I’ll go to therapy.”
Paloma turned, holding her hands like a scale in front of her.
“Let’s see, on the one hand, you going to therapy. But on the other hand, me getting $5 million dollars,” she said. “Not a very difficult choice.”
“I love you!”
She snorted. “Of course you don’t. You don’t love anyone.”
“Yes, I do,” I insisted.
“Well, you definitely don’t loveme.Paloma Di Pietro is a lie. She’s an imaginary creation. Nothing you’d want as a Governor’s wife, I can tell youthatmuch. I even have a tramp stamp. It’s just covered up with makeup.”
“You have awhat?”
She smirked at me, flicking her little pink tongue out saucily. “So run along and get the lawyers tomorrow, and we’ll get a quickie divorce.”
Then my wife turned aside. Like it didn’t matter what I had to say.
Like she didn’t give afuck.
My thoughts felt jumbled, confused. But one thing was certain as she tucked the prenup under her arm.
“I do not agree to a divorce.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Are you planning to fight this? I assure you you won’t succeed. I like money and I don’t like you.”
Who was this woman standing in front of me, talking to me bold as brass? Even my legislative aides, my closest associates, didn’tdarecontradict me like this.
“What do you even care? You have way more fucking money. You’ll barely notice the $5 million. It’s a good deal for you. Take it and I won’t make any trouble.”
She held out her hand to me, the beautiful engagement ring I’d bought her twinkling in the light. It had been carefully hand-crafted and designed, diamonds and sapphires in the shape of an opening flower, to match my wife’s shy, but radiant, blossoming.
“It’s not about the money,” I ground out. “I love you.”
Paloma frowned and pulled her hand back. Then her face cleared and she shrugged, patting me impersonally on the shoulder as she walked by.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll make sure you have no choice but to give me a divorce.”
“Wait, what does that mean?” I asked.
But she’d already disappeared down the hallway, and in the distance I heard a door slam shut.
CHAPTER 3
Paloma (2 years earlier)
“Why do I have to interview this guy?” I complained to my best friend Rowan, who managed the Greenhill Rescue Society Weekly Gazette.
