"Comminuted fracture. Severe nerve damage."
"You'll struggle to hold anything heavy from now on, let alone perform precision authentication work."
My mind went blank.
For an authenticator, your hands are your life.
No sense of touch. No fine motor control.
I was finished.
Dirk Harding, you're ruthless.
You didn't just steal my heart. You had to destroy my livelihood too.
The door swung open.
Dirk walked in.
He looked as polished as ever, carrying a fruit basket in one hand.
"Isabella, Amy's young. She doesn't always know where to draw the line."
He sat down. His voice carried a thin veneer of warmth, the kind you'd offer a stray you pitied.
"There's fifty thousand dollars on this card. Enough to last you the rest of your life."
"All you have to do is sign this settlement agreement and drop any claims against Amy."
I stared at the card.
Then I laughed.
Tears slid down my cheeks and into the corners of my mouth. The taste was shockingly bitter.
"Fifty thousand?"
"Dirk, you think my hand is worth fifty thousand dollars?"
"Or do you think five years of your lies are worth fifty thousand dollars?"
His brow creased. Whatever thin patience he'd brought with him evaporated.
"Don't push your luck."