Chapter 4

The next morning, I found Liam in his study. He was staring out the window, his back to me. A signed divorce agreement lay on his desk.

"I'll sign it," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "I don't want anything. No alimony, no property. We can just walk away."

Liam turned around slowly, a look of disbelief on his face. It quickly hardened into a cynical sneer.

"Walk away?" he scoffed. "You think it's that easy? After everything I've given you? The clothes, the cars, the jewelry, this house? You don't get to just walk away with five years of my money."

He leaned back in his chair, a cruel smile playing on his lips. It was a power move, a way to trap me. He thought my love for money was greater than my desire for freedom.

"Fine," he said. "You want a divorce? You can have it. But you have to pay me back. Every single dollar I have spent on you since the day we met. I'll have my accountants draw up a bill."

He expected me to beg. To cry. To plead. He expected me to be trapped.

Instead, I felt a strange sense of calm. I had been preparing for this moment for five years.

"Alright," I said.

My simple agreement threw him off. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

In my head, I was doing the math. The clothes, the jewelry, the cars, the vacations, the redecorations. It was an astronomical sum. But I had been smart. The unlimited credit card he'd given me wasn't just for purses and shoes. I had funneled millions into a diversified investment portfolio under a shell corporation. I had studied the market, made shrewd decisions. The money had grown.

"My accountants estimate the total to be around ninety-seven million dollars," he said, the number meant to shock and intimidate me. "You have one week to pay it, or the deal is off."

"That won't be necessary," I said, pulling a folder from the tote bag I was carrying. I opened it on his desk. It contained bank statements, stock portfolio summaries, and real estate holdings. All in my name. The total net worth was well over one hundred and fifty million dollars.

"I can transfer the ninety-seven million this afternoon," I told him. "Just give me the account number."

The look on his face was something I would treasure forever. Shock. Utter, complete, world-shattering shock. He stared at the papers, then back at me, as if seeing me for the first time. The man who thought he had bought and paid for a compliant substitute was now facing a woman who was financially more independent than he could have imagined.

I reached into my bag again and placed the black Centurion card on top of the folder. Then, I took off the five-carat diamond ring he'd given me, the one that felt more like a brand than a symbol of commitment, and set it next to the card.

"The cars are in the garage. The keys are on the counter. The house is yours," I said. "We're square."

I turned to leave. I had taken three steps toward the door when I heard a sound that stopped me in my tracks.

It was a choked sob.

I turned back. Liam had his head in his hands, his broad shoulders shaking. Tears were streaming through his fingers, dripping onto the pristine financial statements. The great Liam Hayes, the cold, unfeeling tech mogul, was weeping like a broken child.

I was so stunned I couldn't move. I had never seen him cry. I had never thought him capable of it.

"Don't go," he whispered, his voice thick and broken. "Please... Ava... don't go."

He looked up at me, his face a mess of tears and regret. "It was a test," he choked out. "All of it. The video... what I said... it was all a stupid, horrible test."

I just stared at him, my mind refusing to process his words.

"I was so scared," he confessed, his voice ragged. "Scared that you were only with me for the money. When Chloe came back, I thought... I thought if I pretended to choose her, if I pushed you away, I could see if you really cared. I wanted you to fight for me. I wanted you to be jealous. It was the most idiotic, twisted thing I have ever done."

He stood up, stumbling towards me. "The video of the attack was fake. Chloe staged it. My investigator sent me the proof an hour ago. She set the whole thing up to make you look bad. And I... I fell for it because I wanted to believe the worst. I wanted to test you."

The truth of his confession was so pathetic, so childishly cruel, that all my anger just evaporated, leaving behind a hollow ache. He hadn't betrayed me out of love for Chloe, but out of a profound insecurity and a twisted need to prove my love for him. He had gambled with my heart, and he had lost.

"I'm sorry, Ava," he pleaded, his eyes red and swollen. "I'm so, so sorry. I never intended to divorce you. I love you."

He said the words. The three words I had waited five years to hear, and now they just sounded like ashes in my mouth.

"Prove it," I heard myself say. The words came out cold and hard.

He looked at me, confused.

"You want me back?" I asked. "Then fix this. Publicly. At the gala tomorrow night. You will get on that stage, and you will tell the entire world that I am your wife. And you will expose Chloe for the liar she is. You will ruin her, the same way you tried to let her ruin me."

A flicker of hope ignited in his tear-filled eyes. "Yes," he said immediately. "Anything. I'll do it. I'll do anything."