Then there was the partnership I'd painstakingly arranged for him. Because Sapphire mentioned she didn't like the client, he flipped the table at the signing dinner and killed the deal on the spot.
Ever since Sapphire joined the company, every team project bonus somehow ended up in her pocket. Late-night meal deliveries during overtime? The entire office got nothing while Sapphire received gourmet takeout he personally ordered.
Yet he seemed to forget that the food he ate, the roof over his head, the car he drove, the company in his hands—all of it came from me.
He had married into my family. He wasn't some high-and-mighty Mr. Finley.
Every last one of these offenses, I'd seen. I just couldn't be bothered to fight him over them.
But today, he'd pushed his luck too far. He wanted to put another woman's name on a house I was paying for in full.
I looked away from that self-righteous, two-faced expression of his, picked up the pen, and crossed Morton Finley's name off the contract.
His pupils contracted. He grabbed my wrist. "What the hell are you doing?!"
I shook his hand off, my voice perfectly level. "Buying a house. Putting it in my own name. Is there a problem?"