That evening, Brendan showed up with Cindy in tow, ready for a fight.

"Debbie, you promised me you wouldn't fire Cindy. How could you go back on your word?"

I tossed the photos of the two of them at the café onto the table.

"Brendan, who lied first? You really want to play this game?"

The color drained from his face. Before he could respond, Cindy stepped forward with a scornful laugh. "Debbie, when are you going to get it through your head? The only reason you can stand here with any authority is because of Mr. Sanchez."

"He's the one who gave you money to spend. He's the one who gave you a job. Everything you have was handed to you by Mr. Sanchez out of charity."

"Wanting it all and giving nothing back. Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?" She tapped her chin in mock thought, then flashed a saccharine smile. "Oh, right. How does the saying go? Born with a mother, raised without one. That's you, isn't it?"

I froze. My gaze snapped to Brendan.

My mother had passed away when I was young. It had always been a wound I carried deep inside. I never imagined Brendan would share it with Cindy like it was gossip.

My arm shot up. My palm was already swinging toward Cindy's face.

The next instant, Brendan's hand clamped around my wrist like a vise. Fury blazed in his eyes. "Debbie, lay one finger on her. I dare you."

My body was still weak from just being discharged. I had no time to brace myself before he flung me to the ground.

"You—" He faltered, then bent down to scoop me up. I thrust out a hand to stop him.

"Brendan, you hurt me for her?"

He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, a flash of weariness crossing his face. "Debbie, can you grow up? You're the one who tried to hit her first."

"Think about what you've done. You got jealous over nothing and cost an innocent girl her job. Now you're trying to assault her. When did you become so unreasonable?"

"Here's what's going to happen. You apologize to Cindy, then arrange a position for her at the company. We put this whole thing behind us."

A laugh tore out of me, sharp and bitter. "She barely finished middle school. You think she's qualified to work at my company?"

"It's fine, Mr. Sanchez." Cindy latched onto Brendan's arm, her voice soft and pitiful. "I don't want you getting in trouble because of me. It's just that I can't make rent anymore, and my landlord kicked me out..."

"Cindy, don't worry about a thing." Brendan pressed her firmly onto the couch. "This is your home now. Stay as long as you want."

"But..." Cindy trailed off, though her eyes kept drifting toward me, as if to say, What about her?

"She owns plenty of properties. She won't miss this one."

Brendan glanced at me, his tone hardening. "Debbie, this is settled. Don't make a scene."

"Sure."

I let out a cold laugh and pulled out the documents I'd prepared long ago. "Sign this, and I promise I won't bother the two of you ever again."

Brendan's lips curved into a smug grin. "Well, look at that. At least you know how to behave. Preparing an apology gift for Cindy. Though if it's anything cheap, I won't accept it on her behalf—" His eyes dropped to the papers. "Divorce papers?"

His pupils contracted. His head snapped up. "Debbie, you want to divorce me?"

"Cut the crap and sign."

"Considering everything we've been through, I've left you a fair share of assets. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

But before Brendan could say a word, Cindy shot to her feet and ripped the divorce agreement to shreds. "Debbie, you gold-digging tramp! Have you no shame?"

She was practically frothing at the mouth. "You're leaving Mr. Sanchez a couple of properties while you swallow Henson Sterling Group whole? How dare you! That company is Mr. Sanchez's life's work!"

Watching her little performance, I almost laughed. If she only knew that Henson Sterling Group was mine, and the man she'd schemed so hard to get was nothing more than a live-in husband with no stake in any of it. Now that would be entertaining.

"Debbie, will you stop with this nonsense!" Brendan gripped my shoulders with both hands. "I'm going to chalk today up to you being impulsive. But if you bring this up again, I will be genuinely angry."

"Although... you really should learn a thing or two from Cindy. She's gentle, she's considerate, and she'd never fly off the handle the way you do."

There was no getting through to him. I didn't bother trying anymore. My lawyers were already preparing to file.

I gathered my things, ready to leave this house I'd lived in for years. It was time to go home to the family estate and look after my parents.

Brendan saw me packing. He didn't stop me. "Just stay at a hotel for a few days. Once Cindy finds a place of her own, you can move back. After all, it was your little tantrum that cost her the job. You owe her that much."

The moment he left, Cindy dropped the act entirely. "Oh my, isn't Mrs. Sanchez supposed to be so tough? What happened? Slinking off with your tail between your legs?"

"Without Mr. Sanchez, you're just another washed-up old woman. I really don't understand what you've been so high and mighty about all this time."

She taunted me, waggling her ring finger in my face. On it sat a diamond ring. The diamond ring. The one Brendan had used to propose to me.

I didn't indulge her for a second. My palm cracked across her face, and I seized her hand, wrenched the ring off her finger, and tossed it straight into the toilet. "What's mine gets thrown away before it ever goes to you. And for the record, everyone calls me Ms. Henson. Nobody has ever dared call me Mrs. Sanchez."

"Debbie!"

Behind me, Cindy's shrieking curses didn't let up.

The next day, I went to pick up a custom order.

My father's birthday gala was coming up soon. I could never get comfortable in those couture gowns, so months ago I'd commissioned a bespoke suit at considerable expense.

Standing in front of the familiar storefront, I felt a pang. The last time I'd been here, Brendan had come with me. He'd said that once I put on that suit, I'd look so striking he'd have to fight off every man in the room.

And now, in the blink of an eye, he was the one tangled up with another woman.

"Ms. Henson, your suit was already picked up by Mr. Sanchez."

Why would he take my suit?

Baffled, I floored the accelerator and drove straight to Brendan's place.

One look was all it took. I knew exactly what he'd done. The suit that belonged to me was on Cindy's body. She stood in front of the mirror admiring herself, then turned to Brendan with a simpering smile. "Brendan, don't I look so much better in this than that old hag Debbie?"

Brendan dipped his head and tapped the tip of her nose, indulgent as ever. "You're young. Of course everything looks good on you."

A few days apart and she's already calling him by pet names. I could have laughed.

"Sure, it looks good," I said, stepping forward. "But I wonder if people would still compliment you once they found out the suit was stolen."

Brendan's expression darkened. He turned on me with a sharp rebuke. "Debbie, do you have to come in here throwing ugly accusations right off the bat?"

"But it's the truth!" I pulled at the hem of the suit. "My name is stitched right into this jacket. My suit ended up on her body without my knowledge. If that's not stealing, what is?"

Cindy's eyes turned red instantly. She tipped her face up, the picture of wounded innocence. "Brendan, she has so many clothes, and she's singling me out over this one? I honestly don't know what I did wrong!"

"Enough. It's just a suit!" Brendan waved me off. "Cindy starts her new job tomorrow. A decent outfit would help her make a good impression on her colleagues. How can you not see what actually matters here?"

"What actually matters?" I repeated the words slowly.

"You're telling me my father's birthday gala is less important than her job?"

"Debbie, will you stop twisting everything?" Brendan could barely keep the irritation off his face. "You have a closet full of clothes and you're fixated on this one? I'm begging you, just give it a rest. Stop stirring up drama."

"Please, Debbie, I'm begging you, stop fighting with Brendan!"

Cindy wept like a willow in a rainstorm. "You don't care how exhausted he is, but I do. Do you have any idea how draining it is for him to run a company that size every single day?"

"As his wife, you're not gentle, you're not supportive, and you can't even give him children. You are the definition of a failed woman!"

"And yet someone like you still has Brendan's love. What more could you possibly want?"

Brendan looked genuinely moved, as if he'd finally found someone who truly understood him. "Cindy..."

I let out a cold laugh and tossed a bill onto the table. "You two really are a match made in the gutter. I'm here for one thing today. Compensation."

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!" Cindy shrieked. "Debbie, have you lost your mind? What suit costs two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?"

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Brendan.

"Why don't you ask your precious Brendan? On top of the suit itself, factor in the time I've lost and the rush fees for a replacement. Then tell me whether that number is unreasonable."

Cindy turned to Brendan, eyes pleading, desperate for him to call my bluff. Instead, he gave a small nod. "That price is about right."

Her breath hitched. "But I don't have that kind of money! And I was only going to borrow it for a few days. Isn't she being a little too calculating?"

"Cindy, don't worry about it. Consider this suit her apology gift to you. We're not paying a cent."

"But Brendan, if you keep taking my side like this, she's only going to get angrier." Cindy leaned against his shoulder, practically preening. "I'm afraid she'll make things difficult for you."

"Don't worry about that."

Brendan was dismissive, a thread of arrogance running through his voice. "We're husband and wife. What's hers is mine. If I say it's yours, no one can stop me."

"Then I hope you'll both say that to the police when they get here."

I held up my phone and gave it a little shake. The screen glowed with an active call, and the number on it was 911.