He blinked, then laughed bitterly. “Divorce? Is that it? You’re threatening me with divorce because I asked you to cook for your friend?”
“You know that’s not it!” I shouted. “This is about Gwen! She’s kidnapped! And instead of helping me, you froze my accounts—you won’t even lift a finger to save her!”
Leandro sneered. “Gwen? Come on. You’re not even sure they have Gwen. What if they’re lying? Or… what if you’re using her to get money out of me?”
“What?” My voice broke.
“Why not?” His eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that the truth? You’re your father’s daughter. Have you forgotten how he scammed me and ran away? Maybe you’re just like him—using the child to get what you want.”
His words cut deeper than knives. My heart squeezed so tight I could barely breathe.
“Leandro, do you even hear yourself?”
Before I could say more, Nadine’s soft voice cut in, feigning guilt. “Please… if this is my fault, don’t fight.”
“No,” Leandro snapped, glaring at me. “This is her fault—for not taking care of Gwen in the first place.”
I staggered back, my legs weakening, when the butler entered. He carried a small box, his expression pale.
“A delivery… for you, sir,” he said, handing it over.