Chapter 3 Divorce Declaration

The accusation hit Calleigh like a slap to the face. The silence in the hallway stretched, heavy and suffocating.

"Stalking you?" Calleigh's voice cracked. Her throat felt lined with sandpaper. She pointed a trembling finger toward the closed door. "Your daughter's bone marrow was just given to someone else. She is dying, Hakeem. And you are here, playing father to another woman's child?"

Hakeem's jaw clenched. He reached up and yanked at his silk tie, loosening it. "Chloe had a severe panic attack this morning. She needed emotional support. You are completely overreacting."

Lily stepped forward, her small hand reaching out toward Hakeem's tailored suit pants. "Daddy?"

Hakeem looked down. He saw the pale, sickly hand reaching for him. Instinctively, he took a half-step backward, pulling his leg out of her reach.

Lily's hand froze in mid-air. Her lower lip quivered, and massive tears instantly spilled over her eyelashes, tracking down her hollow cheeks.

Calleigh felt a physical snap inside her chest. The last thread holding her heart together broke.

She didn't say another word. She bent down, scooped Lily up into her arms, and turned around. She walked away, her spine completely straight, not looking back once.

Hakeem stood in the hallway. He watched them leave, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He let out a harsh breath, adjusted his tie, and turned back to the door.

It was past midnight when the electronic lock on the penthouse door beeped.

Calleigh was sitting on the edge of the master bed. The room was dark. Lily had cried herself to sleep three hours ago, her small body exhausted from the emotional toll.

The bedroom door pushed open. Hakeem walked in. The heavy scent of expensive red wine and a sickeningly sweet, floral women's perfume rolled into the room with him.

He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the chair. He walked toward the bed, his footsteps heavy. He sat down behind Calleigh and reached his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

The smell of Erlinda's perfume on his shirt hit Calleigh's nose. Her stomach violently contracted. Bile rose in her throat.

She shoved her elbows backward, breaking his grip, and scrambled off the bed. She backed up until her shoulders hit the cold glass of the window.

Hakeem frowned, his eyes narrowing in the dark. "Don't bring your hospital mood into this house, Calleigh. I'm tired."

"You smell like her," Calleigh said, her voice dead and flat.

Hakeem stood up. "You are losing your mind over nothing. You're jealous of a widow who needs help."

He closed the distance between them in two large strides. He reached out, grabbing her shoulders, leaning down to force his mouth onto hers.

Calleigh swung her arm.

Her palm connected with Hakeem's cheek with a sharp, cracking sound that echoed off the high ceilings.

Hakeem's head snapped to the side. The room went dead silent.

He slowly turned his face back to her. His eyes were pitch black, burning with a dangerous rage.

Calleigh pointed a shaking finger toward the bedroom door. "I want a divorce."

Hakeem stared at her. Then, a dark, cruel smile spread across his face. "A divorce?" he mocked, stepping closer until his chest almost touched her pointing finger. "You want to divorce me?"

He let out a harsh laugh. "You drop out of college to marry me. You haven't worked a day in four years. You think you can survive in Manhattan without my last name? You couldn't even pay for a studio apartment."

Calleigh didn't blink. She bit her lower lip, tasting blood again. "I will leave with nothing. I don't want a single cent of your money."

Hakeem's eyes flashed with pure malice. "Good. Because you won't get any. Remember the dowry my family paid the Gilliams when we got married? You're a purchased asset, Calleigh. You don't get to walk away."

He turned on his heel, grabbed his jacket, and walked out.

"Do whatever you want," he threw over his shoulder.

The door to the guest bedroom down the hall slammed shut, rattling the picture frames on the walls.