Chapter 3

Jessica decided to escalate her attack from verbal to material. She opened her clutch and pulled out a garish, diamond-encrusted bracelet. It was loud, expensive, and utterly tasteless.

"Here," she said, pushing it toward me. "A little gift. From me to you. So you don' t look so... out of place. David bought this for me last week in Paris."

She wanted to humiliate me, to show me the kind of wealth I had walked away from.

I looked at the bracelet. The diamonds were poorly set, and the gold was a cheap, flashy yellow. Internally, I appraised it. Maybe thirty thousand dollars, retail. The custom-made platinum watch hidden under the sleeve of my dress, a private anniversary gift from Michael, was worth ten times that. I felt a small, private smile touch my lips.

"No, thank you," I said simply.

Her face tightened. My refusal was not part of her plan. As I turned to walk away, she made a clumsy, deliberate move. Her glass of red wine 'slipped' from her hand, splashing all over the front of my black dress.

"Oh my God! I am so, so sorry!" she gasped, her performance worthy of an award. "I' m such a klutz! Look at your dress, it' s ruined!"

The dark red liquid soaked into the fabric. The crowd around us had started to notice the commotion.

Jessica put on a show of concern. "Let me pay for it. It can' t be that expensive, right? A hundred dollars? Two hundred? David, give me some cash." She was enjoying this, painting me as a charity case.

But her plan backfired. A woman standing nearby, a well-known fashion critic named Eleanor Vance, gasped. But her gasp wasn' t for my ruined dress.

"Is that... is that an original 'Midnight Bloom' by Antoine Dubois?" Eleanor asked, her eyes wide as she stared at my dress. She stepped closer, ignoring Jessica completely. "I thought there were only three in existence. He designed them exclusively for his muse before he passed away. That' s not just a dress, my dear. That' s a piece of art."

The air went still. Jessica' s smirk froze on her face. David looked confused.

"What are you talking about?" Jessica snapped at Eleanor. "It' s just a plain black dress."

"Plain?" Eleanor scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "The fabric is a custom silk-velvet blend that no longer exists. And the cut... it' s unmistakable. That dress is priceless."

Jessica' s face went from pale to a blotchy red. She had tried to humiliate me over a dress that was more valuable than her entire outfit, including the tacky bracelet.

Eleanor Vance then turned her sharp eyes to me. "Sarah Miller. Of course. I' ve been following your work for years. Your name has been on everyone' s lips. It' s an honor to finally meet you." Then she glanced at David. "Mr. Chen, isn' t it? I read an article about you. It said you' ve been turning your company upside down trying to find your ex-wife for years. I suppose you finally found her."

David flinched, clearly uncomfortable with this public revelation.

So, he had been looking for me. I wondered why. Was it regret? Or was it just his ego, bruised because something he owned had dared to leave him? I suspected the latter. He didn' t want me back; he just didn' t want anyone else to have me.

Jessica, trying to regain some control, sneered. "Looking for her? Don' t be ridiculous. He' s the CEO of Chen Tech. He' s about to close the biggest deal of his career. He doesn' t have time to think about a nobody."

She clung to David' s arm again, puffing out her chest.

David, recovering his composure, stepped forward. He pulled out his checkbook, the same move he used to solve every problem.

"Sarah," he said, his voice low and serious. "Let' s stop this. Name your price. How much will it take for you to come back home with Leo? Just name it."

He scribbled something on the check and tore it out, holding it out to me. He thought he could buy me back. He thought I was just another asset to be acquired.