"Sorry?" He flicked ash onto the floor. "The only thing I regret is not dumping you sooner." His eyes dragged over me with undisguised disgust. "Everything you own isn't worth two hundred bucks. You couldn't even afford to embarrass yourself in public. Paulette is young, beautiful, graduated from a top university, and most importantly, she can give me a son. And you? You've been taking up space without producing an heir, and now you've got a terminal illness on top of it. What am I supposed to do, wait around for you to die and then arrange the funeral?"
Mrs. Gilbert Sr. chimed right in. "Exactly! The Gilbert family line has been passed down for generations. It will NOT end because of you!"
Watching the two of them, mother and son, I felt strangely calm.
Late-stage pancreatic cancer. His reproductive function was already gone. What pregnancy was Paulette Fox carrying?
A man like Thaddeus Gilbert. Someone could sell him out and he'd count the cash for them.
"Fine. I'll sign."
I picked up the pen and held it above the paper.
A flash of wild elation crossed Thaddeus's eyes.
"But I have a condition."
His expression curdled instantly. "On what grounds?"
"I want five hundred thousand dollars in cash. The moment I sign, I walk out that door and you'll never hear from me again. Otherwise, I'll die right here in this house and turn it into a place no one will ever want to live in."
Mrs. Gilbert Sr. sneered. "You think your life is worth five hundred thousand?"
As if a life could be measured in dollars.
Thaddeus pressed a hand on her arm, his face dark and menacing as he stared at me. "Pearl. Are you threatening me?"
"It's a transaction. Five hundred thousand buys you a lifetime of happiness and a birth certificate for your son. You're telling me that's not worth it?"
His jaw worked silently. I could practically see the calculations ticking behind his eyes: She's only got three months left anyway. The money goes out, but she won't live long enough to spend it all. Once she's dead, it comes right back to me.
"Deal!" The word squeezed through his clenched teeth. "Your turn. Sign. Now."
My phone chimed.
Five hundred thousand dollars. Deposited.
I checked the balance notification, then signed my name in one clean stroke.
Pearl Cobb. The ink was still wet.
From this moment forward, there was nothing between Thaddeus Gilbert and me but a debt to settle.