EX-HUSBAND'S BOSS FOR VALENTINE

SYLVIE GRANT

Melania

Callum rushes back into the room at once, and I take a deep breath, trying to contain my rush of excitement.

“You called, ma’am,” he says politely, but I don’t really care about that.

“Yes. I need to get to Sylvie Grant’s office. She’s a divorce attorney. Do some research online while I get ready, will you?” I say, rising to my feet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He bows slightly as I walk out of the room. Brady is such an i***t for giving me this idea.

If he thinks he can bribe the judge and the attorney, then he’s a fool because he can’t outplay me. As I climb the stairs, I try to contain my excitement. This competition with him fuels me, and I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I walk away with seventy percent of his net worth.

A part of me is angry at Royal for going behind my back, but another part of me feels... cared for. He knows I might be in trouble, and even though I’m stubborn, he isn’t backing down. That’s what a real man does, and he’s proving it.

I grab a dress from the closet, slip into it, and accessorize with sunglasses and a hat before making my way downstairs. Callum is already waiting at the landing.

“I’ve done the research, ma’am. Her office is at Number Ten, Ash Street,” he informs me, and a slow smile curves my lips as I descend the stairs.

I pat his shoulders slightly. “Nice work, Cal. Now, let’s go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responds in his usual professional tone. I toss him the car keys and head toward the front door, with him following closely behind.

We get into the car, and he pulls out smoothly onto the road.

The drive is calm, the city passing by in a blur, but my mind is anything but here. I tap my nails against my lap, going over my strategy. Brady underestimates me, and that’s his first mistake.

**

Callum parks outside a sleek, modern building with dark-tinted windows. The sign outside reads Grant & Associates. I step out of the car, adjusting my sunglasses, then I make my way inside, with Callum trailing behind.

As we walk through the sliding doors, a cool, minty scent fills the air. My eyes land on the receptionist at the front desk, and I stride over.

She looks up from her computer, her eyes assessing me.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t, but I’m sure Ms. Grant will want to see me,” I say coolly, sliding my sunglasses down just enough for her to see my face.

She hesitates before picking up the phone. “Your name?”

“Melania Montclair.”

That gets her attention. Her lips part slightly, and her brows lift before she speaks into the receiver.

“Ms. Grant, Mrs. Montclair is here to see you.” There is a brief pause, then she nods before hanging up and turning back to me. “You can go in. Third door on the left.”

I don’t wait for further instructions. Turning on my heels, I head straight down the hallway. When I reach the door, I take a deep breath before pushing it open.

Sylvie Grant sits behind her finely polished desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit. Her auburn hair is styled in a low chignon. She doesn’t look surprised to see me. If anything, she looks intrigued.

“Mrs. Montclair,” she says, standing and offering a handshake. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I take her hand, shaking it briefly before she gestures toward the seat in front of her desk. I sit down, crossing my legs.

“I need the best divorce attorney in the city.”

She tilts her head slightly, confusion flickering across her face. “That’s funny, because I could have sworn I was already booked on your behalf.”

I force a smile, leaning forward as I place my hands on her desk, fingers intertwined.

“I know,” I say smoothly. “But I don’t just need any attorney. I need someone who can ensure I walk away with exactly what I deserve.”

Sylvia leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “I’ve already given my word to the man your husband sent. Isn’t that the same thing?”

I meet her gaze, unwavering. “That man isn’t who you think he is. He’s my ex-husband—the very person you’re supposed to be fighting against, but Royal Montclair has no clue, and he will keep having no clue because this will remain between us.”

Her mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“Let’s talk business,” I say, and she studies me for a long moment before a slow smile spreads across her lips.

“Now that is something I can work with.”

I lean back, satisfied. “There’s no need to waste time. Brady will try to manipulate you by offering a bribe to make sure I don’t get seventy percent of his wealth. He’s a cheating, manipulative asshole. I don’t even want his money—I just want to see him crumble. So here’s what I’ll do: whatever he offers, I’ll give you five times that.”

With that, I rise to my feet and slide my sunglasses back on.

“Nice doing business with you,” I say, extending my hand for a final handshake before she can even respond.

She takes it, standing as well. “I hope to see you again, Mrs. Montclair.”