CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2
I stared at Jason’s hand wrapped around my arm and remembered every time I had apologized just to make the evening quieter.
When he screamed because dinner was late.
When he called me useless in front of his friends.
When he disappeared for days and came home smelling like another woman, then asked why I was “acting crazy.”
When my mother got sick and I begged him to drive me to the hospital, and he texted, “Stop being dramatic. You’ll survive.”
He had been wrong about one thing.
I had survived.
Jason tightened his grip.
“Sign the papers, Olivia.”
My lip trembled, but my voice did not.
“Touch me one more time, and I’ll make sure everyone finally sees who you really are.”
He laughed.
That was his mistake.
I grabbed my father’s crystal paperweight and swung it down against his wrist. Not hard enough to destroy him. Hard enough to make him let go.
The crack echoed through the dining room.
Jason shouted and stumbled back, clutching his arm.
Megan’s smile vanished.
I stood slowly, breathing like I had just run through fire. My hands were shaking. My knees felt weak. But for the first time in seven years, I was not afraid of the silence after his anger.
“Have you lost your mind?” Jason snapped.
“No,” I said. “I finally found it.”
His eyes darkened. He rushed toward me again, but grief had made me lighter than he expected. I stepped aside.
He crashed into the table.
My mother’s vase tipped, hit the hardwood floor, and shattered.
White roses scattered across the broken glass.
That hurt more than his threats.
I grabbed my phone from the sideboard and hit record.
Jason froze when he saw the camera.
“Turn that off.”
I raised it higher.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Tell everyone how you came here hours after my parents’ funeral to force your grieving wife to hand over her inheritance.”
His eyes flicked to Megan.
For the first time since she arrived, Megan looked nervous.
“Olivia,” she said quietly, “you’re making this bigger than it has to be.”
I laughed once, bitter and sharp.
“You followed my husband here to help him steal from me while I’m burying my parents,” I said. “Trust me. It’s already bigger than you realize.”
Jason took one slow step forward.
“You really think anyone is going to believe you?”
I walked backward toward the front door, one hand holding the phone, the other reaching for the knob.
Then I opened it.
Mr. Thompson, my father’s attorney, stood on the porch with a leather briefcase in one hand and a phone in the other.
May you like
His calm blue eyes moved from my bleeding lip to Jason’s folder on the table.
“I heard everything,” he said.
