My mother sent the finalized divorce papers. I signed them immediately. I spent the afternoon gathering evidence—speaking to people who owed me favors, employees who had seen too much, friends of the family who remembered what “really” happened the night Maxon allegedly died, why Victoria left, and every rumor they tried to bury.
By evening, I had what I needed.
All of it would be sent to Grandma Madeline on her birthday during her celebration in front of every powerful business partner, friend, board member, and socialite she’d ever invited.
Let them taste humiliation.
Let them feel the ruin they crafted for me.
My phone rang. Maxon still pretending Lewis. I let it ring until it went to voicemail.
“Where are you?” he asked immediately, voice strained. “You disappeared. You didn’t come home. I’ve been calling—”
“I just… needed air,” I said softly. “Needed space.”
A beat of silence.
“Was it because of Victoria?” he asked, voice gentler. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been there. I didn’t know she would—”
“It’s fine,” I lied. “I’m okay. I just needed a night away.”
“You’ll come back tomorrow?” he asked, sounding relieved.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Tomorrow.”