Chapter 4

I set my teacup down, and the porcelain met the table with a crisp little clink.

I didn't stand. I just leaned back a little against the chair, watching the two of them the way you'd watch a pair of clowns. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and a cold smile curved at my lips.

"A title? A clean, friendly split?" I repeated the words slowly, then let out a soft laugh. "Fred, do you really think fifty million is enough to send off some beggar?"

"Ruby, don't push your luck when you've been handed a favor!" Fred's face darkened in an instant. His voice cut sharp. "Fifty million plus a villa, I've already done more than right by you! Don't think you can name whatever price you want just because you've got the Henson family behind you! Five years, eating and living off the Gilberts, and you still have something to complain about!"

"I've been living off the Gilberts?" I shot to my feet, and the force of it swept the whole room. I grabbed the Hermès bag behind me, yanked the zipper open, and hurled the two-hundred-page financial audit straight into Fred's face.

Smack. The report scattered across the floor, the photos, the account statements, the bank transfer records all splayed out for everyone to see.

"Open your eyes and look."

I pointed at the documents on the floor, my voice slicing through the air of the hall like a blade of ice. "First, I want three hundred million in cash as a settlement, not a cent less. Second, that two-hundred-million penthouse at One Central Park in Manhattan, transferred into my name immediately. Third, as the guilty party who cheated during the marriage, you, Fred Gilbert, walk away with nothing."

"In your dreams!" Fred was shaking with rage, jabbing a finger at me. "On what grounds do I walk away with nothing? Have you lost your mind?"

"I've lost my mind? You're about to find out exactly who's lost it here."

"Over these three years, you, Fred Gilbert, used our marital assets to buy your dear secretary a thirty-five-million villa in the Western Suburbs, two sports cars worth twelve million together, plus jewelry, designer bags, and twenty million wired into her parents' account. Ninety-two point five million in total."

"Madison, you have three days to cough up every last cent of that ninety-plus million."

The words landed and the whole room erupted.

Tristram was clutching his chest, gasping, and Mrs. Gilbert was jabbing a finger at Fred, cursing him for bleeding the family dry.

Madison went limp with fright in Fred's arms, sobbing and pleading. "No... those were all my salary and bonuses from Mr. Gilbert... Ruby, you can't be this ruthless, hunting me down like this!"

"Ruby!" Fred roared like an enraged lion, his eyes bloodshot, glaring at me. "You investigated me? You think a stack of bills is enough to threaten me? Let me tell you, I'd sooner throw the money into the sea than give a vicious woman like you a single cent! Madison is carrying the Gilbert family's firstborn grandson. You lay one finger on her and see what happens!"

Watching him play the devoted man defending another man's bastard, I threw my head back and laughed.

Under the confused stares of everyone in the room, I slowly let the laughter fade, reached into the inner pocket of my bag, and drew out one last thin sheet of paper.

I walked up to Fred and laid the paper lightly against his chest. And just as lightly, I said one sentence.

That one sentence made every Gilbert in the room, including Tristram, who had been furious the whole time, go wide-eyed in an instant, their faces filled with sheer disbelief.