“If you’re worried about having no one to rely on in the future,” he said, his tone almost conciliatory, “I can return your eggs to you, and we can have another child together.”
“Though this child won’t carry my surname when he grows up, I can arrange a position for him in my company. He’ll be well taken care of. And as for you—”
I cut him off, my voice cool.
“There’s no need for such generosity, President Davis.” I pulled out the signed divorce agreement and placed it before him. “Just sign it.”
Over the years, I had endured enough, the whispers, the judgment, the condescending stares, all because of my status and the way both father and son regarded me.
And now, he was offering me the chance to bear another child, one who wouldn’t even be acknowledged by his family. That would be nothing but self-inflicted humiliation.
Carlos’s patience finally snapped. With a sharp tear, he shredded the divorce agreement, his eyes dark with fury.
“Dahlia, it seems you’ve had it too easy. Are you looking for trouble?”
“Since you refuse to wear those dresses, you won’t be attending the banquet tonight either. I won’t have you disgracing the event I organized for Evie.”