Page 77 of The Bad Husband

I pick up the pace, enter his property, and deftly remove my shoes.

The car engine roars behind me, and that’s my clue. Holding my shoes and bag against my chest, I sprint toward the house. It doesn’t matter that he floors the pedal and his sports car lurches forward.

I cut my way through shrubs and trees, taking the shortest route to the house.

The driveway gravel crunches under the tires as he pulls up in front of the house.

He misses me by a hair as I sprint past him, avoid his grip, and push through the main door.

Quick steps take me upstairs, where I make a beeline for my room. I open the door and walk in before tossing my things onto the chair.

My first impulse is to go into the walk-in closet and try to think this through.

I need to talk to a lawyer on Monday and see if that stupid clause in my father’s will can be annulled.

It’s fundamentally unfair to be subjected to this.

Plus these two people, Damon and Henrietta, might actually be con artists.

Before I have the chance to think this through, the door flies open, and he barges in.

“Get out,” I bark as he pins me with his glare.

“What did I tell you?” he counters, ignoring my reaction.

Fuming, I move closer to him.

“Who are you, Damon West?”

He slams the door behind him.

“What?”

I put my hands on my hips.

“I know about you and Henrietta.”

He shoots me a puzzled look.

“What are you talking about?”

Emboldened, I move closer.

“She’s your long-time flame. Were the two of you together in her marrying and exploiting my father?”

He shakes his head slightly.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he mutters. “Didn’t I tell you not to go out, especially with that dick?”

“That dick?”

I laugh in his face, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“Let’s not start a conversation about dicks. You’re in no position to tell me who I can and can’t see. Are you some kind of con artist? Is she? Were you so in love with her that you waited for her to grab a third of my father’s wealth, and then couldn’t wait, not even a year, before you married her, so you can live your happy ending after with her?”

“Shut up, Lila,” he says, suddenly distracted.

“No, I won’t shut––”