Matthew didn't hesitate. He and Ryan—my fiancé at the time—tied me up and shipped me off.
That was what they called "contributing."
But no matter how I examined it, the logic escaped me. Georgia caused the disaster, yet I was the sacrifice.
"Oh, right, Aria... I heard that over there, you can't even bathe every day. Is that true? Then on you..." Georgia covered her nose and mouth, as if realizing she'd been rude.
"Enough." I cut her off sharply.
I signed my name on the agreement with a flourish.
"When will the money arrive?" The agreement stated a compensation of five million dollars.
Matthew glanced at the signature, relief washing over his face. For a split second, a flicker of guilt passed through his eyes.
"Aria, there's no need to rush the money, right?" His voice wavered. "I've arranged a place for you to stay. Give it some time..."
I cut through his hypocritical concern. "Stop talking nonsense. I want five million in cash. Right now."
Five million to buy out my identity as Miss Henson. A cheap price for freedom.