Chapter 4

"Vicky, I want to talk to you privately," I said, trying to keep my voice even, though every nerve was screaming.

Dylan smirked, standing a little closer to Vicky, a protective gesture that made my fists clench.

Vicky didn't move. "Anything you have to say, you can say in front of Dylan."

Her tone was cold, dismissive. She wouldn't even grant me that.

"So, no call from your lawyer," I stated, not a question. "Funny, after your big announcement at the festival, I expected some urgency."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Things came up."

"Things like him?" I nodded towards Dylan, who was now examining his fingernails, feigning boredom.

"Dylan has nothing to do with this," Vicky said, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Then why is he here, Vicky? Why is he suddenly indispensable when you told me I wasn't qualified enough to file papers for you?"

Her face flushed slightly. "That's different."

"Is it? Or is it that you were already planning this when you asked for a divorce, claiming you were 'tired of our life'?"

She finally looked at me, her expression hard. "My reasons are my own."

Then the news about the festival incident, my open mic response, and a screenshot of my quick social media post – a picture of our marriage license captioned, "She said the one who isn't loved is the real outsider" – started to go viral locally.

Bloggers picked it up. "Local CEO' s Messy Split Rocks Music Fest."

Suddenly, Vicky' s phone was ringing off the hook. Not with congratulations for her "reconnection."

Her PR person must have had a meltdown.

Later that day, she called me. Her voice was strained.

"Ethan, we need to manage this. The bad PR is killing Sterling Aura."

"Your problem, Vicky, not mine."

"It becomes your problem," she said, her voice dropping, losing its earlier arrogance, "if Liam' s treatment funding gets... complicated."

My heart stopped. She had been partially subsidizing his expensive leukemia treatments, the ones not fully covered by insurance. It was a significant amount.

"Are you threatening me?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

"I'm stating a fact. We can't divorce right now. Dylan can't be seen as a homewrecker. It would destroy everything I've built."

Manipulation. Using my brother' s health.

"So what do you propose?" I asked, feeling trapped, a cold fury building inside me.

"We cooperate. Damage control. We issue a joint statement. Something about an amicable separation months ago."

"And Dylan?"

"He's my new partner. The public needs to see a smooth transition, not a scandal."

I wanted to scream, to smash something.

But Liam' s face flashed in my mind. His hopeful eyes, his thinning hair.

"Fine," I said, the word tasting like ash. "I'll cooperate."

For now.