Something like guilt flickered through Conrad's eyes. He opened his mouth, but Desiree caught his arm before a word came out.
"Conrad, the ceremony's about to start. Can you get her out of here?"
He let the woman's coaxing pull his gaze away, and he gave himself entirely to the wedding.
I dragged myself up and staggered toward the door.
Behind me, Conrad called out, almost impatient.
"Get your stuff out of the villa. Desiree sees it tonight, she'll throw a fit—girl's a handful when she's jealous."
I stopped mid-step. My throat felt packed with cotton, and it took everything I had to force out a single word: "Fine."
Back at the house, I had just finished packing when Conrad walked in carrying Desiree.
The moment she spotted me, she buried her face against his chest and whined. "Conrad, why is she still here? How humiliating…"
He kissed her forehead and smiled, indulgent. "What are you worried about? You're my real wife now."
Desiree's cheeks flushed pink, and she ducked her head, voice dropping to a murmur. "Conrad, I just realized we don't have any condoms at home…"
He blinked, then transferred me money without a second thought.
Same note as every other time.
This wasn't the first time.
Before, when he and his little lover were going at it in the middle of the night, one phone call was all it took to send me out to buy them.
He'd even made me put one on him with my own hands.
But now I'd made up my mind to divorce him.
Why should I still do a damn thing for him?
I ignored the transfer, grabbed my suitcase, and left.
By the next morning, every one of the distillery's partners was demanding to pull their money.
I picked up the phone and called to find out why.
The person on the other end hemmed and hawed, clearly uncomfortable. "Ms. Simmons, I'm sorry, this… You should really ask Mr. Graves about it."
I was shaking with anger. I threw on my coat and rushed to the distillery, hoping there was still something I could salvage.
The moment I walked into the office, I saw Conrad going through the files on my desk.
Desiree was perched on his lap in a strapless dress, the marks on her neck telling me everything I needed to know about last night.
When he saw me, Conrad slid a transfer agreement across the desk. His tone left no room for argument. "Sign it."