Chapter 3

When I got back to the firm, I started systematically organizing evidence for the divorce.

Asset inventory, proof of infidelity, dissipation of marital assets—I documented everything.

Five years of marriage. I'd invested $500,000 of my life savings into Dominic's company.

Lost income from cases I'd turned down, promotions I'd missed— I calculated it all and wrote it down on paper.

That afternoon, Richard Croft called me into his office.

"Elena, Mr. Hayes called the firm today."

"He said if you don't drop the lawsuit, he'll pull all his referrals from us. You know how connected he is." Richard wouldn't look at me. "Also, the recommendation letter you need for Top 40 Under 40—I have to sign it. Think carefully."

Richard had watched me go from intern to partner.

Three years ago, I'd worked through the night on a death penalty defense case that won the firm a national award.

He'd clapped me on the shoulder and said, "You're the pride of this firm."

Now he was using my career to pressure me on Dominic's behalf.

I said, "Richard, you don't have to sign the letter. But if the firm uses this to force me to drop the lawsuit, I'll file a complaint with the bar association."

Richard's face flushed red. He waved me out of his office.

Three days later, Dominic came home again.

This time, he brought flowers. White lisianthus was my favorite.

He said, "Elena, I dropped the retreat center lawsuit. See? I'm making compromises."

I took the flowers.

"What about Mia Kensington?"

"I'll handle it gradually. Just give me some time."

"Has she moved out of the lakefront penthouse?"

"She's far along now. It's not a good time for her to move."

"Whose baby is it really?"

"I had a paternity test done. It's not mine."

"Where's the report?"

"At the office. I'll bring it tomorrow."

"Do you have a digital copy on your phone?"

He hesitated, unlocked his phone, scrolled for a while, then said he couldn't find it.

I reached out and took his phone.

He instinctively pulled back, but then handed it over.

I didn't look at his messages with Mia Kensington and opened his Notes app.

The top reminder was dated last month.

"Mia's due date in two months—book OB-GYN specialist. Right below it:Refill Elena's stomach meds."

Two reminders, side by side. One was for another woman's due date. One was for my prescription.

He did remember me, but he'd put me second.

I handed his phone back and dropped the flowers in the trash.

He stared at me throwing them away, stunned.

I said, "Dominic, do you know why I've never lost a case?"

He didn't answer.

"Because I only take cases I can win." I looked into his eyes. "But this marriage—I can't win anymore."

He reached out to grab me. I stepped back, then went to the study and started packing to move out.

I didn't cry because I was past the point of crying.