Chapter 4

Lester's hand froze midair.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Moving out?" He gave a short scoff. "Bertha, if you leave me, where exactly do you think you'll go?"

"Your father's sorry excuse for a company has run out of cash. It's about to go under.

You move out now, what, so you can end up on the street?"

My voice stayed level.

"That's really none of your concern, Mr. Stephens."

I turned and walked out of the old Stephens estate. The sunlight outside stung my eyes.

I called the moving company.

Back at Lester's apartment, I started packing my things.

There wasn't much to pack, really.

Over these three years, molding myself to fit him, I'd thrown away too much of what was mine.

What was left was just some worthless old belongings.

Early the next morning, the movers arrived.

I loaded the last few boxes into the truck and glanced back once at the place I'd lived in for three years.

Halfway there, the driver slammed on the brakes.

My body pitched forward, and I nearly hit the seat in front of me.

"What happened?" I steadied myself and frowned.

"Some car just cut right in front of us. What a lunatic!" The driver swore and rolled down his window.

A black Maybach sat sideways across the road, blocking the cab.

The door opened and Lester got out, his face dark.

He strode over to the cab and yanked the back door open.

"Get out."

I sat where I was and looked at him coldly.

"Lester, have you lost your mind?"

"I said get out!" He dragged me out of the car by force.

The driver flinched and started to say something, but Lester just threw a wad of cash at him.

"Get lost."

The driver took the money and sped off.

Lester hauled me over to his car.

"Bertha, what is it you're actually trying to do?"

His eyes were red-rimmed, as if I'd genuinely enraged him.

"All I did last night was go see Beverly for a minute, and you have to blow it up into this, packing up and moving out?"

"Do you have any idea how childish you're being!"

I looked at him raging and only found it absurd.

"I'm moving out because I don't want to see you anymore."

I wrenched my hand free.

"Lester, our engagement is already off. Where I live, where I go, none of it has anything to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me?" He laughed coldly and closed in on me.

"You think signing that piece of paper means you're rid of me?"

He pulled a document from his pocket and slapped it down on the hood of the car.

"Take a look at this."

I glanced down.

It was a supplemental agreement.

It said that as long as I promised not to make a scene about the photos,

and played along in keeping up a peaceful-breakup front for everyone else, he'd keep his investment flowing into the James company.

"Sign it."

He held the pen out to me.

"Be good and sign. There's a limit to how far you get to throw a tantrum.

I'll still take care of you. Whatever you want, I can give it to you.

Just stop making a scene."

I looked at the pen held out in front of me and didn't take it.

I slowly unzipped my bag and drew out a small red booklet.

"There's no need to sign any breakup agreement."

I slapped the marriage certificate down on top of his document and lifted my eyes to his.

"I'm already married."