Chapter 1 - The Night He Chose Wrong
By the time I returned to the penthouse, the rain had swallowed half the Chicago skyline.
Victor was not alone.
Kendra sat on my sofa with one bare leg crossed over the other, drinking from the crystal wineglass my mother had given me before she died.
A cream-colored folder rested on the coffee table.
Victor stood beside the windows with his tie loosened and the expression of a man preparing to enjoy something cruel.
“You’re late.”
I closed the door behind me.
“I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”
His eyes narrowed.
Kendra smiled into her glass.
Victor pointed toward the folder.
“Sit down.”
I remained standing.
“What is it?”
“Your future.”
I almost smiled.
He had no idea how accurate that answer was.
I opened the folder.
Divorce papers.
A settlement agreement.
A confidentiality clause.
And a demand that I leave the apartment immediately with almost nothing.
Victor had prepared every page as though he were dismissing an employee.
“You’ll receive fifteen thousand dollars.”
I looked up.
“For seven years of marriage?”
“For seven years of living better than you ever could have without me.”
Kendra’s smile widened.
Victor stepped closer.
“You should be grateful.”
There was that word again.
Grateful.
I closed the folder.
“No.”
His expression changed.
“No?”
“I won’t sign this.”
Kendra laughed softly.
Victor’s face hardened.
“You don’t have a lawyer.”
“I can get one.”
“With what money?”
I said nothing.
He moved closer.
“You have no job.”
Silence.
“No family.”
Silence.
“No connections.”
I watched him carefully.
He believed every word.
Victor leaned down until his face was inches from mine.
“You exist because I allowed you to exist in my world.”
Something inside me finally went quiet.
Not broken.
Finished.
“I think you should reconsider how you speak to me tonight.”
Victor laughed.
Kendra laughed with him.
That was when I knew my seven-year experiment had reached its conclusion.
Victor grabbed my wrist.
“You think you can threaten me?”
“Let go.”
“Or what?”
I looked directly into his eyes.
“Victor.”
My voice remained calm.
“This is your last opportunity.”
He slapped me.
The sound cracked through the room.
Kendra stopped laughing.
For half a second, even Victor looked surprised by what he had done.
Then pride took over.
He grabbed my coat from the chair and threw it into the hallway.
“Get out.”
I stared at him.
“You’re throwing your wife out in a storm?”
“I’m throwing out dead weight.”
He shoved me beyond the doorway.
I stumbled onto the cold marble.
My shoe twisted beneath me.
Victor kicked it toward the elevator.
Then he locked the door.
I stood there listening to Kendra’s laughter return.
That was the moment I called my father.
And three minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
Russell Kent stepped out beneath the soft gold lights.
He looked at my bare feet.
Then at my face.
Then at the red mark across my cheek.
Russell had known me since I was five years old.
I had never seen him look murderous before.
“Miss Hartwell.”
He removed his coat and placed it around my shoulders.
“Your father is waiting.”
Behind the penthouse door, Victor turned the music louder.
Russell glanced at it once.
“He has absolutely no idea, does he?”
I stepped into the elevator.
“No.”
May you like
The doors began closing.
“But he will tomorrow.”
