On the way home, her car stopped at an intersection. On the giant LED billboard across the street, news footage was playing: "Miles Vance wins Master Dylan Parker's Promise Brooch for $20 million—rumored proposal to girlfriend Sibyl Edwards."
Molly turned her head just in time to see a breathtakingly beautiful woman throwing her arms around Miles, beaming like a child on Christmas morning.
And her handsome husband was playing along perfectly—leaning down slightly, his palm resting on the woman's back, a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes soft with tenderness.
Miles Vance, who was always so cold he barely seemed human, could actually look at someone like that...
Molly stared blankly at the screen, at the impossibly handsome man she had given her heart to.
So that's what the brooch was for. A proposal.
The Promise Brooch her father had designed for her mother—and Miles had used it to propose to his mistress.
Oh, Molly. What a joke you are.
She blinked slowly, brushed the tears from the corner of her eye with her fingertips, and dialed Miles's number.
"What is it?"
His tone was exactly as she expected—impatient, cold.
"Miles, just give me the brooch, and we'll divorce."