When Amelia returned to the maid's room that night, the house was silent.
She closed the door, turned the lock, and stood still. No footsteps outside. No voices. Just the low hum of the air conditioner.
The two folders from Turner Group lay on her small desk.
She walked over and sat down.
For a while, she simply looked at them.
She opened the top folder—the transfer for the new villa.
Page after page held her signature and Mason's, neat and firm. Proof that he had put a house in her name.
“A trade," she murmured.
She set that folder aside and opened the second one—the file for the marital home.
The pages looked the same. Property codes. Legal phrases. The same stamps.
Halfway through, she stopped.
A different title sat at the top of one page, printed in the same calm font.
Divo
