"That man has never lost. And Kerry's just a businessman—what chance does he have?"
"Ms. Harding's cruel, isn't she? Dangling hope in front of him, then snatching it away."
Only then did I understand.
Her so-called mercy—letting me gamble for freedom—was a poisoned blade from the start. She had already calculated that I would lose. That my mother would be stripped naked and thrown out like garbage. She had seized my company, left me with nothing, and ensured I had no one to turn to for help.
Rage surged through me. I thrashed against my restraints, my voice tearing from my throat: "May! Ask yourself—ask your conscience—how did I ever treat you?!"
She let out a cold, derisive laugh. "Treat me? Oh, you treated me wonderfully."
Her smile sharpened. "But what does that have to do with anything? I never asked you to love me. You're old now, Kerry. Your body can't compare to a younger man's." She shrugged elegantly. "What, did you expect me to live like a widow for the rest of my life?"
Her words—so casual, so utterly heartless—made my fists clench until my knuckles went white. I forced the unprecedented fury down, burying it deep.
Then the door swung open.