“Miss Hill?” a polite voice said on the other end. “Your request to rent a yacht has been approved. When would you like to set sail?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Tomorrow evening.”
“Very well. Everything will be ready.”
I pushed open the front door of our house. The silence inside felt suffocating, but it didn’t last long.
Jason’s voice drifted from the living room. “We can’t just get rid of her yet. Not until I figure out what to do with the company.”
“You’ve been saying that for months,” Leslie said.
“Paige isn’t stupid,” Jason muttered. “If she steps down, everything falls apart. The company’s in both our names, but you and I both know I’m only swimming in cash because of her hard work. Once she’s out of the picture, we’ll figure it out. Until then, I can’t risk a divorce.”
I froze, my blood turning cold. So this was their plan. Jason had been using me, milking my company for years—that I had worked blood and sweat just to prove I wasn’t just an adopted daughter—while playing the doting husband.
I was right to leave.
Gripping the banister, I stepped into the living room. Both Jason and Leslie turned toward me, their faces frozen in shock.