Otthen took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes narrowing on the papers as he let it out slowly. It was so tempting. He could already picture it: Cambrik realizing that she’d overplayed her hand, realizing that he wasn’t going to bend to her whims.
It was satisfying and fair, wasn’t it? She’d left him first, after all.
Seeing her advantage, Cynthia leaned in closer, her voice almost a whisper. “Don’t give her a single cent,” she murmured, her words wrapping around him like silk. “She has no job, no money, and nowhere to go. Trust me, Otthen, she’ll come crawling back to you. You’ll see her begging, crying, realizing what she gave up. And then…” She tilted her head, a victorious gleam in her eyes. “Then, you decide if you want her back. But on your terms.”
Otthen’s chest heave
