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“So you hired somebody,” he snapped. “That’s pathetic.”
Vanessa slowly regained her confidence. “Is that supposed to frighten us? Everyone knows David has money.”
I took a slow sip of water.
“He has my family’s money,” I replied.
David’s jaw tightened immediately.
That was the first crack.
My grandparents built Sterling House Textiles starting with a single factory and a borrowed truck. When my parents passed away, I inherited controlling interest in the company. David married into the empire and started calling himself CEO because I allowed it. Because I trusted him. Because I believed marriage meant sharing power.
Vanessa leaned closer. “David told me everything was in his name.”
I almost pitied her.
“Did he?”
David slammed his hand against the table. A spoon rattled loudly. Two women nearby turned to stare.
“Enough,” he hissed. “You’ll sign the divorce papers. You’ll keep the apartment and take a reasonable settlement. Vanessa and I are starting a family.”
“Are you?” I asked quietly.
Vanessa pressed both hands over her stomach like royalty guarding an heir. “Yes.”
“Wonderful.”
I placed a second envelope on the table.
David stared at it as if it might explode.
“What now?” he demanded.
“Medical records,” I answered calmly. “Not yours, Vanessa. His.”
Vanessa frowned. David froze.
Three years earlier, after months of trying unsuccessfully for a child, David underwent fertility testing. He cried in the clinic parking lot while I held him. He begged me never to tell anyone.
Severe male factor infertility. Almost zero chance of natural conception.
Vanessa turned toward him. “What is she talking about?”
He laughed far too loudly. “She’s lying.”
“No,” I said evenly. “I kept the records because I keep everything.”
Vanessa’s face flushed red. “David?”
He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t listen to her.”
I stood from my chair. “Enjoy dessert, you two.”
He rose quickly. “You think you can humiliate me and walk away?”