Watching.
“Pack all of her belongings,” I ordered. “Every dress, every shoe, every piece of jewelry I bought. Put it all in black trash bags.”
“Ethan! You can’t do this to me!” she screamed. “I’m the mayor’s daughter! My father will destroy your company if you throw me out!”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was pathetic.
“Call him,” I said. “I’d love for him to know that tomorrow, I’m pulling billions in investments out of his city projects. And maybe I’ll send the media a few documents about his hidden accounts too.”
Silence.
Fear replaced her arrogance instantly.
I stepped closer.
“This house was built for my mother,” I said. “It’s in her name. You don’t own anything here.”
Her lips trembled.
“And our marriage?” I continued. “My lawyer will send the annulment papers tomorrow. Thanks to the prenup—you leave with nothing.”
