It wasn't that we couldn't afford better. Talia had insisted on this one because her daddy made it with his own hands last year, during a craft session at her preschool. She'd treasured it like gold, wearing it even after she'd outgrown it.
And just now, Victor had stepped on it without a second glance.
Something cold and heavy lodged in my chest—like cotton soaked in ice water, pressing against my heart until it ached.
Victor hung up and noticed me holding the ruined crown. Annoyance flickered across his face.
"Stop picking up that junk. We're divorced now, but I'm not going to leave you with nothing. This villa is yours—you and the kid can stay. Talia's used to the place anyway."
"I'll also give you five million dollars. Odette Cox, learn to be grateful. That's enough for you and the child to live out the rest of your lives."
"And I appreciate you being sensible about this. No hysterics like before. You've saved me a lot of trouble."
His phone screen lit up. The coldness in his eyes melted instantly, replaced by a tenderness I hadn't seen in years.
"Anyway, the agreement's signed. I should go."