Chapter 10: The Price of Leaving

I unfolded the final crease.

The faded blue ink continued beneath the fold.

If Vivian ever reads this...

Don't trust the accident report.

I stopped breathing.

There was nothing else.

No signature.

No explanation.

Only those five words.

I read them again.

And again.

Nathaniel had hidden this page for me, not for the police, not for a lawyer, and certainly not for Damien.

He had expected something to happen.

He had known someone would lie.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

Not the measured knock Damien used.

This one was urgent.

"Madame?" Martha whispered through the door.

"Your lawyer has arrived."

I folded the page immediately and slipped it back beneath the velvet lining.

"I'll be downstairs in a minute."

When I entered the drawing room, Daniel Pierce stood beside the fireplace.

He had represented me before my marriage.

Back when I still owned Verline.

"Mrs. Ashford," he greeted.

"Vivian is fine."

"Very well."

He placed a thick leather folder onto the coffee table.

"These are the initial divorce papers."

"They're straightforward."

"Property separation."

"Financial disclosures."

"Personal asset declarations."

"Custody isn't applicable."

The last sentence landed like a stone.

No children.

Nothing to fight over.

Daniel carefully slid another document across the table.

"This one is more important."

"Your post-divorce financial position."

I opened it.

The figures barely surprised me.

"According to your prenuptial agreement," Daniel explained, "you waived any claim to Ashford Holdings."

"You also agreed not to seek spousal maintenance."

"Meaning?"

"If the divorce is finalised tomorrow..."

"You leave with your personal belongings only."

"Nothing else."

"Your jewellery studio remains frozen because it was transferred into a marital holding company after the wedding."

"Until ownership is challenged, you cannot operate under the Verline name."

"Your bank accounts?"

"The private one containing your pre-marital savings is still yours."

"Balance?"

Daniel hesitated.

"Twenty-eight thousand pounds."

Once, Verline had earned that much in less than a week.

Now it represented my entire future.

"And the house?"

"Not yours."

"The cars?"

"Not yours."

"Jewellery collections?"

"Anything purchased after the wedding belongs to the marital estate."

"Even pieces I designed?"

"Unfortunately... yes."

I closed the folder.

"So that's the price."

"Leaving costs everything."

"Materially... yes."

"Legally, you're walking away almost empty-handed."

Before I could answer, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Damien entered.

He stopped the moment he saw Daniel.

"I see you've started already."

"Mr. Ashford," Daniel nodded professionally.

"Counsellor."

Damien's eyes fell onto the paperwork.

"Divorce papers."

"That was quick."

"My client instructed me yesterday evening," Daniel replied.

"I'm aware."

Damien walked closer.

His expression remained unreadable.

"Leave us."

Daniel looked toward me.

"It's alright," I said.

He quietly gathered his briefcase and left the room.

The silence stretched between us.

Finally Damien spoke.

"Do you know what happens if you sign those papers?"

"Yes."

"You leave with almost nothing."

"I know."

"You'll lose this house."

"Yes."

"Your social position."

"Yes."

"Verline."

That one hurt.

But I nodded anyway.

"Yes."

Damien stared at me.

"You're willing to become poor just to leave me?"

I looked directly into his eyes.

"I was already poor, Damien."

"You just couldn't see it."

He looked away first.

"If this is about yesterday..."

"It isn't."

"Then what is it about?"

"Respect."

"Trust."

"Freedom."

"Everything that disappeared long before yesterday."

He rubbed a hand across his face.

"I can change."

"Maybe."

"Then give me the chance."

"You had eleven months."

"You had hundreds of chances."

"Every single day you chose not to believe me."

His shoulders dropped.

For the first time, he looked tired.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

"What do you want from me?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing."

"That's the problem."

"I don't want your money."

"I don't want your name."

"I don't even want this house."

"I just want my life back."

The words settled heavily inside the room.

Damien looked around the mansion.

At the marble floors.

The expensive paintings.

The crystal chandelier.

Everything he had spent years building.

Then he looked back at me.

"If you walk out..."

"You may never get Verline back."

"Then I'll build something better."

"From twenty-eight thousand pounds?"

"From my hands."

"That's how Verline began the first time."

He didn't argue.

Perhaps because he remembered.

He had fallen in love with the woman who built an empire from a workbench.

Somewhere along the way...

He had tried to bury her.

A sharp vibration interrupted the silence.

My phone.

An unknown number.

I answered.

"Mrs. Ashford?"

"Yes."

"This is the records department at St. Gabriel Hospital."

"We located something you requested three years ago..."

"A notebook belonging to your late brother."

"It was misplaced in storage."

"We've finally found it."