Chapter 4

Corinne POV

The murmurs rippled through the waiting room. Other clients, some of whom had clearly been waiting longer than I had, exchanged exasperated glances. One man muttered, "Unbelievable. Some people just get special treatment."

Grant, of course, remained oblivious behind his closed door. Or perhaps, he simply didn' t care. The door, thick and soundproof, was a barrier, not just to the noise outside, but to the reality of his blatant favoritism, his disregard for those who patiently followed his rules. It was a barrier that kept me out.

I sat there, my mind a churning mess. I, his wife of nearly a decade, was made to wait indefinitely, while his intern, Kylee, sauntered in without an appointment. His world revolved around her, not me. I was just a discarded relic, a forgotten part of his past. The rules applied to everyone else. Not to her. And certainly not to me, anymore.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The quiet hum of the air conditioning, the rustle of newspapers, the hushed conversations – it all grated on my nerves. The grumbles from the other clients grew louder, more insistent. But the door remained stubbornly shut.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open. Kylee emerged, her face flushed, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. Her eyes met mine across the room, and for a fleeting second, her smile widened, a hint of something smug, victorious, in their depths. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew I was waiting.

Then Grant appeared in the doorway, his eyes scanning the waiting room. They landed on me, and for a split second, I saw a flicker of surprise, perhaps even a hint of discomfort. But it vanished quickly, replaced by his usual cool, professional demeanor.

"Next," he called out, his voice devoid of any warmth or recognition. He looked past me, past the other waiting clients, as if I were just another name on a list.

He didn't acknowledge me. He didn't ask why I was there. He just pivoted, and the heavy door swung shut behind him once more, sealing me out. Again.

I sat there, numb, until the receptionist started turning off the lights, announcing closing time. The other clients, defeated, gathered their things and left. I was the last one.

I stood up, my legs stiff, and walked towards the elevator. Just as the doors were about to close, I saw them. Grant and Kylee, walking side-by-side, their shoulders almost touching. Kylee was laughing, a light, airy sound, and Grant was smiling down at her, a genuine, unguarded smile that twisted my gut.

"Grant," I called out, my voice raw, desperate.

He stopped, his smile fading. Kylee stiffened beside him, her hand subtly slipping from his arm. He turned, an impatient frown on his face.

"Corinne? What are you still doing here?" he asked, his tone laced with annoyance. "Did you change your mind about the papers? Are you regretting it already?" He smirked, that familiar, arrogant glint in his eyes. "Trying to crawl back, are we?"

My hand shot out, grasping his forearm. My fingers closed around his bicep, holding on for dear life. "No, Grant, I' m not here for that," I said, my voice trembling. "It' s Aubrie. My sister. She... she was assaulted. By her boss, Keven Bauer. He' s powerful, well-connected. She needs legal help. She needs your help."

My voice broke. "He used his position, Grant. He destroyed her. She' s broken. Please. You' re the best. You have to take her case. Please."