Faith sat in the cracked vinyl backseat of the yellow taxi, watching the towering skyscrapers of the Financial District blur past the window.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the adrenaline out of her bloodstream.
The cab jerked to a stop in front of her building. Faith paid the driver, stepped out into the biting wind, and walked briskly through the opulent, marble-clad lobby.
She stepped into the private elevator and swiped her keycard.
When the doors slid open directly into the penthouse, Faith stopped in her tracks.
Sitting on one of the high stools at the kitchen island was a stranger in a sharp, slate-gray suit.
The man stood up immediately. He pushed his gold wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Mrs. Ware. I am Irving Gardner, Chief Legal Counsel for the Ware Group."
Faith's eyes darkened.
Hartwell hadn't wasted a single second. He hadn't even needed to go to his office. He had already prepared for this moment long before Eveline's plane even touched down at JFK. He was desperate to erase her from his life.
Irving unclasped his leather briefcase. He pulled out a thick, intimidating stack of documents and aligned them perfectly on the marble counter.
Faith walked slowly toward the island. She pulled out a stool and sat down.
Her eyes dropped to the bold, black letters stamped across the top page: Marital Settlement Agreement.
Irving reached into his breast pocket and produced a heavy Montblanc fountain pen. He held it out to her. "Mr. Ware wishes to expedite this process as quietly and efficiently as possible," Irving stated, his tone strictly transactional. "He had me draft this comprehensive settlement agreement several weeks ago, pending final execution."
Faith ignored the pen. She reached out and flipped open the heavy cover of the document.
First, she found the custody section.
The language was brutally clear: The Second Party (Faith Owens) shall assume sole legal and physical custody of the minor child, Leo Ware. The First Party (Hartwell Ware) relinquishes all parental rights, including custody, visitation, and decision-making authority. No visitation shall be scheduled unless mutually agreed upon in writing.
Faith's chest tightened. He wasn't even asking for weekends. He was throwing Leo away like an unwanted package. The boy was five years old—and Hartwell wanted nothing to do with him.
She swallowed the bitterness and kept reading.
Child Support: The First Party shall pay the sum of fifty thousand dollars ($50,000) per month, indexed for inflation, deposited into a trust account for the benefit of the minor child until the age of twenty-one, plus all educational and medical expenses.
Faith blinked. That was far more than the state minimum. It was enough to give Leo a good life—private school, security, a future.
Then she flipped to the property division.
Real Estate: The First Party hereby transfers full ownership of the marital residence located at [Penthouse address] to the Second Party, free and clear of any liens or claims. The First Party shall vacate the premises within seventy-two (72) hours of execution.
She looked up at Irving. "He's giving me the penthouse?"
Irving nodded stiffly. "Mr. Ware believes it is in the child's best interest to remain in his familiar home. He has already secured alternative accommodations."
Faith almost laughed. He has already secured alternative accommodations. Translation: he was moving in with Eveline.
She flipped further. No alimony—zero. No other properties—the Hamptons estate and the other condos remained with Hartwell. Non-Disclosure Agreement—ten pages of ironclad gag order. If she spoke to the press about the marriage or the settlement, she would owe him millions in penalties.
She sat back, processing.
Hartwell was giving her the penthouse. He was giving Leo generous financial support. But he was giving her nothing—no alimony, no safety net for herself. And he was buying her silence with the threat of financial ruin.
He wasn't being generous. He was being efficient. He wanted her and Leo tucked away in this apartment, well-fed and quiet, while he started his new life with Eveline. Out of sight, out of mind.
Faith looked up at Irving. Her expression was unreadable.
"He doesn't want his son," she said quietly. "Not even to visit."
Irving shifted uncomfortably. "Mr. Ware believes it is in everyone's best interest for the child to remain with his mother exclusively. He wishes to... begin a new chapter without reminders of the past."
Reminders. That was the word. Leo was a reminder of the marriage Hartwell had always resented. And now he was paying to make that reminder go away.
Faith looked down at the document again. She thought of Leo's small hand in hers. Of the way he still sometimes asked, "Does Daddy love me?" She would never have to lie to him about visitation that never came. She would never have to send Leo off to a father who didn't want him.
She reached for the Montblanc pen.
Before she could sign, the front doors of the penthouse swung open.
Hartwell marched in, his jaw tight. He had obviously forgotten a file and returned to retrieve it.
He stopped dead when he saw the two of them at the island. His eyes dropped to the document—still unsigned.
Hartwell closed the distance in three long strides. He slammed his hands down on the marble, leaning into her space.
"What's the problem?" Hartwell sneered, his eyes flashing with cruel triumph. "Is fifty thousand a month not enough for you? Want the Hamptons too? Finally showing your true colors, Faith?"
Faith stared at his handsome, hateful face.
She thought of how he had never once attended Leo's school play. Never tucked him in at night. Never looked at the boy without a flicker of cold distance.
Every single lingering drop of affection she had ever held for this man evaporated into ash.
Without breaking eye contact, Faith pressed the nib to the signature page.
With sharp, aggressive strokes, she slashed her signature across the dotted line. She didn't pause. She didn't negotiate.
