During a business meeting, my husband’s new wife barged in and said, “We’re here for our share of this $500 million company.”
During a business meeting, my husband’s new wife barged in and said, “We’re here for our share of this $500 million company.” I smiled and said, “You’re not getting a penny.” They left, but the next morning she called, bragging, “We burned your company down. Go play guitar for cash.” I rushed over, then laughed hard. The office they burned was…
I was trimming the last of my father’s white roses when I heard the click of expensive heels on the stone path. I didn’t turn. Only one woman would wear designer shoes to walk through a garden—my ex-husband’s new wife, Marianne Hart.
“Still hiding in the dirt, Laura?” she crooned, that sugary voice covering the rot underneath.
I kept trimming, breathing slowly. “What do you want?”
She stepped closer, her perfume sharp and artificial. “You know why I’m here. The will is being read tomorrow, and Daniel and I believe it’s better if we… discuss expectations.”
I stood, brushing dirt off my apron. “There’s nothing to discuss. This is my father’s estate.”
Her smile sharpened. “Estate, darling. And Daniel was like a son to Thomas for seventeen years. We deserve our share.”
I tightened my grip on the pruning shears. “You mean the same Daniel who cheated on his wife with his secretary? That Daniel?”
She waved a manicured hand. “Ancient history. Your father forgave him. They played golf every Friday… until he died.”
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