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‘However much I can get!’ he flung back.

‘It seems keeping a mistress happy, stealing from her husband, driving flashy cars, and betting non-stop will drain your bank account.’

He scowled. ‘I’m distressed, and you’re enjoying my humiliation.’

‘I’m not. I’m only putting up with your shit because you ruined my relationship with Deacon, and I need him back and you to fix it. The only way that happens is if you tell him the truth of what went down that night in Chicago. Hear?’

He rolled his eyes, but eventually nodded.

‘State your price.’

He cleared his throat, staring into his lens with a bleak, hollow expression.

‘I must have five hundred grand, Ana.’

I arched a brow. ‘That much?’

He was asking for a fifth of the proceeds from the sale of my London house.

Was I ready to fork over half a million for Deacon?

I sat back in my chair, lost in thought as I wrestled with my decision.

My gut twisted at Max’s sheer audacity, but I thought of a lifetime without Deacon and how priceless his devotion was.

I’d pay whatever it took to win back the love of my life.

I’d part with every single dollar I possessed if it meant resurrecting our shattered relationship and returning to the fierce love we once shared.

Max nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

I took a deep breath.

‘Fine, I’ll give you the cash, but I’ll only agree to the wire transfer under one non-negotiable condition,’ I stated.

‘Name it,’ Massimo muttered, shifting in his squeaking chair.

‘That you fly to Nashville on your own dime,’ I instructed, my eyes locking onto his. ‘You find Deacon and look him in the eye. You’ll tell him you ambushed me; you used a locator app to find me. You’ll admit you’re a toxic prick who staged that rooftop kiss to try and blackmail me for money, and had a paparazzi waiting to capture it all. Deacon doesn’t even believe me about the weirdo with a camera, so you’ll need to tell him.’

Massimo remained silent for a beat, processing my words.

‘Va bene. I’ll have you know I also have the security footage from the bar. I paid off the hotel’s night guard for the file.’

I jolted.

‘You planned to sell that too?’ I asked, disgust coating my tongue.

How had I ever let this man touch me?

‘I thought about it,’ he admitted, shrugging. ‘But it shows you punching my gut and swiping the SD card from the pap. It proves the ambush. I’ll hand over the video to your rock star if it gets me the cash I need.’

‘You’d better, and just so you know, you’re such a pathetic loser,’ I snapped.

‘I deserve every curse you send my way, cara. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,’ he replied, with a twist of regret. ‘I’m a survivor above all else. My apologies that you had to see the dark side of me.’

I stared at the broken man on my screen, at his statement, coming a little too late.

I struggled to reconcile this desperate shell of a man with the charming rogue I married years ago.