His eyes reddened. Maybe from shame. Maybe from fear. I no longer cared.
“What do you want?” he asked.
That was the first honest question he had asked all day.
“I want you out of my house tonight,” I said. “I want a full accounting of every marital account, every business interest, every document you had me sign. I want temporary custody filed properly, not threatened on my porch. And I want you to stop speaking to me as if I’m still the woman who needed permission to check the bank balance.”
Daniel gave a short, ugly laugh. “You think you can destroy me?”
“No,” I said. “I think you already did.”
Mr. Meyers handed him a card. “Mr. Carter, all future communication regarding the property should go through counsel. You will be permitted to retrieve personal belongings under supervision.”
Daniel stared at the card as though it were a blade.
Vanessa finally headed toward her car. She stopped beside him. “I gave up my apartment because of you.”
Daniel whispered, “Not now.”
She slapped him.
The sound cracked across the quiet street. Mrs. Hanley gasped from the doorway.
Vanessa pointed at him. “You told me she was broke. You told me the house was yours. You told me I’d be living in Manhattan by Christmas.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Manhattan?”
Daniel looked sick.
Vanessa turned to me, anger and embarrassment mixing across her face. “He said he was negotiating ownership in some tower. He said once the old aunt died, he’d have leverage.”
A cold line moved through my chest.
