“Look at her,” Savannah purred.
She stepped into view in a champagne silk dress, the kind of dress bought with money I had quietly provided for years. She crouched near my face, her expensive perfume mixing with the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
“Still pretending she’s innocent,” she whispered. “Still playing the silent victim.”
Then she stood, placing one hand over her flat stomach.
“Nathaniel, darling, could you ask the maid for sparkling water? The baby simply cannot stand the smell of your scotch tonight.”
Nathaniel’s face softened instantly.
“Of course, my love.”
Then he looked back at me, cold again.
“I’m done carrying dead weight, Isabella. I built this empire from nothing. I rescued you from your small, pathetic life and gave you everything. All I asked was that you become a quiet, grateful wife. But you became a liability.”
He pulled a thick legal document and a gold fountain pen from his jacket, then threw them onto the floor beside my trembling hands.
