The room became painfully quiet.
Outside the enormous windows, traffic continued moving through downtown as though nothing extraordinary had happened.
Inside, everything had changed.
“You actually think I’ll sell my marriage?”
“I think you’ll protect yourself.”
His answer caught me off guard.
“Myself?”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Take the money.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I said no.”
For the first time in the five years I’d known Richard Carter, his carefully controlled expression completely collapsed.
The cold businessman disappeared.
In his place stood someone frightened.
Deeply frightened.
He rose from his chair and walked toward the windows overlooking the city.
His shoulders looked strangely heavy.
When he finally turned around again, his eyes carried something I had never expected to see.
Fear.
Not anger.
Not disappointment.
Fear.
For illustrative purposes only
“You don’t understand what you’ve married into,” he said quietly.
I stood as well.
“Then explain it.”
His jaw tightened.
He looked as though he wanted to speak.
Several times his mouth opened slightly before closing again.
Finally he lowered his eyes.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… or you won’t?”
Silence.
“Richard.”
Still nothing.
Then, almost in a whisper, he repeated himself.
“Please, Violet.”
“Take the money.”
“And disappear.”
The desperation in his voice sent a chill through me.
“What exactly are you afraid of?”
Again…
No answer.
Instead he walked back to his desk and rested one hand against it, looking suddenly exhausted.
“When you leave this office,” he said carefully, “don’t tell anyone I asked you to come.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You honestly expect me not to tell my husband?”
He closed his eyes for one brief second.
“I know you will.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because I had to try.”
His words echoed in my head all the way home.
The moment I walked through our front door, I found Leo standing in the kitchen making homemade pasta sauce while quietly humming along with music playing through the speakers.
One look at my face erased his smile.
“What happened?”
Without saying a word, I placed the folder onto the kitchen island.
He frowned.
“What is this?”
“Read it.”
He opened the first page.
His eyebrows pulled together.
By the second page, all color drained from his face.
When he reached the escrow documents, his hands actually trembled.
“He…”
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