THE MORNING AFTER OUR WEDDING, HE SLAPPED ME OVER BREAKFAST—SO I DESTROYED HIS LIFE BEFORE DINNER.1
/
Chapter 4 / 5
CHAPTER 5 — THE TRUTH THEY HID
That evening, my lawyer arrived.
He placed a folder on my table.
“No rumors,” he said. “Just documentation.”
I opened it.
And everything changed.
Bank transfers.
Debt restructuring under my name.
Preston’s failed business quietly propped up using my credit lines.
Eleanor’s real estate loan—approved using my father’s guarantees.
Even the wedding.
Fifty-eight percent of it paid by me.
I closed the folder slowly.
“So I wasn’t a wife,” I said.
My lawyer didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t need to.
I was a bailout.
A shield.
A silent investor they dressed up in white lace.
My phone buzzed again.
Preston:
Come home. We can talk like adults.
I looked at the message for a long time.
May you like
Then I replied:
Adults don’t slap people over breakfast.
