Chapter 4

GRACE'S POV:

"Sir!" Maria came rushing over, positioning herself between us. "This is just some day labor. She's got terrible allergies, that's why she's covering her face."

Caleb's gaze lingered on me for a long, agonizing moment. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and I was sure he would see through the disguise. Finally, he dropped his hand, but his voice was cold and hard.

"Fire her," he said to Maria, though his eyes never left me. "Right now. Madison's health is delicate, and Wyatt is just a boy. I don't want any potential allergens on this property."

The casual, possessive way he spoke of "this property," the fierce, protective tone he used for "his" family-it was the final nail in the coffin. He wasn't avoiding having children with me because he was worried about my health. He already had the son he cherished.

With Maria running interference, I managed to leave the ranch. The moment I was back in my own car, the dam broke. I collapsed over the steering wheel, and the tears I'd been holding back for two days finally came, hot and furious.

When the storm passed, a dead calm settled over me.

I pulled out my phone. I bought a one-way ticket for a flight in five days, to the other side of the world. Then, I began the online process of canceling every piece of identification I owned.

With that done, I drove to my lawyer's office in town.

"Grace," my lawyer, a sharp woman named Helen, slid two documents across her desk toward me. "Are you absolutely certain about this? The Blackwood Ranch is a massive asset."

I picked up the pen and signed the first document without reading it. It was a declaration, voluntarily relinquishing all my inheritance rights to the Blackwood Ranch.

"And this one..." Helen hesitated. "You really want to waive your rights to all marital assets with Mr. Blackwood? You're agreeing to walk away with nothing."

"Yes." I signed the second document without a flicker of doubt.

I didn't want any of it. Not a single thing built on a foundation of lies.

Helen sighed and pulled a small digital recorder from her desk drawer. "Grace, after our conversation this morning, I was concerned. You told me you suspected they were planning something for the day of the party. You were right."

I looked at her, confused. "What is that?"

"It's from your phone," she explained. "You said you left it on the coffee table in the study before you left for the ranch. It recorded this conversation between Caleb and your grandmother."

She pressed play.

Caleb and Loretta's excited voices filled the quiet office.

"...Wyatt's birthday has to be a huge celebration! I've already booked the venue-the best country club in town," Loretta said.

The country club. The place where they'd held my welcome-to-the-family party. The place where Caleb and I had our wedding reception. They were going to paint over my most cherished memories with a celebration for another woman's child.

"Don't worry, Mom," Caleb's voice was confident, reassuring. "I've got Grace handled. That morning, you'll put a little something in her breakfast, and I'll bring her a glass of milk just to be safe. A double dose. I guarantee she'll be sleeping like a log. She won't find out a thing."

The recording clicked off.

A tear slid down my cheek, landing on the signature I had just written, blurring the ink.

They weren't just going to deceive me. They were going to drug me.

I picked up the pen one last time. With all the strength I had left, I signed my name at the bottom of the divorce agreement.