Ditching Her When the Storm Comes In

Chapter 2 The Worthless Wedding Ring

By sunrise, three years of my life as Aria Walker fit into three black trash bags: the cheap clothes I wore as his modest wife, my worn paperbacks, and the trinkets he picked up whenever he remembered me. The worn spines snagged on the plastic, and one trinket knocked against the curb when I put the last bag down. I never stopped to sort out what might be worth keeping.

Back in the kitchen, I made my coffee strong and black. Liam always drowned it in milk. The front door opened before the pot had finished dripping.

Liam came in rumpled and pleased with himself. Chloe had both hands wrapped around his arm.

She wore my silk robe, his first-anniversary gift and the only expensive thing I owned in the house. It hung loose on her. She pulled it closed at the chest and shivered for an audience.

Then I saw the mug in her hand. White porcelain, a gold ‘A’ on the rim. Mine. I set the coffee pot down before I dropped it.

"The storm was dreadful last night." Chloe made sure her words reached the whole kitchen. "I was too frightened to drive home. Liam was such a gentleman to let me stay."

Liam peeled her hands off his arm and threw his keys on the counter without looking at me. "Aria, make Chloe a sandwich. She barely ate at dinner."

Less than a night after leaving me in a flooding garage, he expected me to feed the woman whose birthday dinner mattered more than my life. I waited for him to hear himself. He didn't.

I drank my coffee. It was hot enough to sting my tongue.

When I still hadn't moved, Liam frowned. "Did you hear me? Chloe's hungry."

I put the mug on the counter and pointed toward the master bedroom.

"Check the nightstand," I said. "Everything you need is there."

He went down the hall, with Chloe close behind. His footsteps stopped inside the bedroom.

From the doorway, I could see the crisp manila envelope on my side of the bed. Morning light caught my wedding ring and the polished wood beneath it. The ring was a plain silver band he had bought online for a hundred dollars.

He snatched up the envelope. "What the hell is this?"

"Signed divorce papers. The summary is for your lawyer. Walker Industries' core source code is my premarital property, protected by three international patents in my name. The ten million dollars in seed money came from my private account as an interest-free loan. My lawyers will contact you tomorrow to recall the money and the code."

He read the first page, looked at me, and laughed.

The laugh filled the bedroom. Chloe gave a quick laugh of her own and loosened her grip on the robe.

"A patent? A ten-million-dollar loan?" He shook his head. "Aria, this is pathetic, even for you. You couldn't pay to file a patent, much less fund a company. You can't buy a plane ticket out of this city without my credit card. You'll be back by dinner, begging me to take you in."

I let him keep laughing.

I passed through the kitchen and opened the front door. His laughter carried down the hall.

Outside, the storm had scrubbed the air clean. Three black Rolls-Royces waited at the curb. A man in a black suit got out of the lead car and opened the rear door.

I settled into the leather seat. My secure phone rang.

"Miss Sterling," said a voice I knew. "Welcome home."