Chapter 4

HANNAH POV:

Jackson's fingers were about to rip the mask from my face, to expose the entire charade. My heart seized in my chest.

"Sir!" Doris's voice cut through the tension. She hurried over, wringing her hands. "I'm so sorry. This is the temp, Maria. She has a terrible flu, but insisted on working. I told her to wear a mask so she doesn't spread her germs."

Jackson's hand dropped. His suspicion immediately morphed into a cold, protective fury-not for me, but for them.

"A flu? Are you insane?" he snapped at Doris, his voice low and dangerous. "You let someone who is sick into this house? Near Scarlett and Leo? Get her out of here. Now. And don't ever let her back."

The ease with which he said it, the casual authority in his voice as he banished me from their perfect little world, was the final piece of the puzzle. It was why he'd always put off my questions about starting a family, why he'd said the timing wasn't right.

The timing would never be right, because he already had a child. A son he loved and protected above all else.

I didn't wait to be escorted out. I turned and fled, the sound of his anger echoing behind me.

Once I was safely in my car, miles away from that house of lies, **the numbness gave way to a cold, terrifying clarity.** The pain was still there, a dull, constant ache, but it was now overlaid with a sheet of pure resolve.

This was the end.

The first thing I did was buy a one-way ticket to Europe, scheduled to depart in five days-on Leo's birthday.

The next few days were a blur of calculated action. I started the complex legal process of dissolving my current identity and creating a new, untraceable one. Hannah Beaumont was about to become a ghost.

My final stop was a meeting with my personal lawyer, a man whose loyalty was to me, not to the Beaumont name. I signed two documents without hesitation. The first was a voluntary waiver, relinquishing any and all claim to the Beaumont family fortune and the foundation. The second was a similar agreement, giving up my rights to any marital assets shared with Jackson.

I was leaving with nothing but the clothes on my back. I wanted nothing from them.

"There's one more thing, Hannah," my lawyer said, his expression grim. He slid a small audio recorder across the desk. "My investigator got this for you. I think you need to hear it."

He pressed play.

It was my parents' voices, intertwined with Jackson's. They were laughing, excitedly planning Leo's birthday party.

"The venue is confirmed," my father's voice boomed. "The Charleston Country Club. The main ballroom. Only the best for my grandson."

The same club where they had hosted my welcome-home party. The same ballroom where Jackson and I had held our wedding reception. The irony was a physical blow.

Then, my mother's voice, sweet and venomous. "What about Hannah? What excuse are you using this time, Jackson?"

"Don't worry, Eleanor," Jackson replied smoothly. "I'll tell her I have a business dinner. And just to be safe, I'll make sure she's sound asleep."

**My blood ran cold.**

**"A little something in her evening glass of wine should do the trick."**