Genevieve stepped into the hallway, leaving the dining room behind. Just as she reached the front door, it opened quietly. A man in a plain gray suit stepped inside. He was in his forties, with dark hair and a face so unremarkable it was almost impossible to describe. He looked like a government clerk, but his posture was rigid, and his eyes swept the area with a quiet, professional alertness.
He handed her a thick manila folder without a word.
Genevieve opened it. Her eyes scanned the printed background report and the glossy photographs inside. A knowing, satisfied smile spread across her lips—the exact confirmation she had been waiting for. Everything made sense now.
She closed the folder with a sharp snap, her eyes gleaming with absolute authority. She turned on her heel and walked right back into the dining room.
Jaycob and Carlee froze as the heavy doors swung open again.
Carlee squinted at the man standing behind Genevieve, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't place it. She shook it off. What mattered was crushing the insolent woman in front of her.
"More theatrics?" Carlee spat, recovering her bravado. She puffed out her chest, the massive diamond glittering under the chandelier. "You think bringing some errand boy in a cheap suit is going to intimidate me? Let me explain something to you, you pathetic little nobody."
She stepped forward, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger in Genevieve's direction. "My family has lawyers. Dozens of them. The kind who don't just win cases. They destroy people. By the time I'm done with you, you won't just be broke. You'll be buried in legal fees you can't even begin to comprehend. You'll spend the rest of your life in some roach-infested studio apartment, scraping together pennies while rats run across your kitchen floor. Is that the future you want?"
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Because that's exactly what I'll give you if you don't sign those papers and disappear. So do yourself a favor. Take the deal. Crawl back to whatever gutter you came from, and stay out of our way."
Jaycob, emboldened by Carlee's tirade, found his voice. "She's right, Gen. You're only making this harder on yourself. We're offering you a way out. Don't be stupid." His voice cracked on the last word, the pathetic bleat of a man trying to sound tough while hiding behind his fiancée's skirt.
Genevieve looked at them and let out a cold, piercing laugh that shattered their arrogance. She walked back to the table, her aura suffocatingly powerful, and slapped the manila folder onto the mahogany wood.
"A gutter?" Genevieve mocked, her voice dripping with lethal elegance. "Miss Roman, you talk a big game about your family's lawyers, but look at you. You are sweating in a wrinkled dress, desperately trying to throw money at me to disappear. A truly powerful woman doesn't beg her lover's ex-wife for a quick divorce. You are terrified."
Carlee's face paled slightly, her bravado faltering. "I... I am not terrified of anything!"
"You are in a frantic rush to get married," Genevieve continued, her gaze pinning Carlee down. "You don't love him. You just need a naive, pliable fool to cover up a filthy scandal. And Jaycob, you pathetic parasite, you actually think you hit the jackpot. You are nothing but a cheap scapegoat for her dirty secrets."
"Shut your mouth! You are talking nonsense!" Carlee shrieked, panic flashing in her wild eyes.
"Genevieve, you are insane!" Jaycob yelled, trying to defend his golden ticket.
"Insane?" Genevieve's smile was freezing. "Let's ask the man who knows the truth." She looked at the man in the gray suit. "Marcus, bring in the other guest."
The man in gray nodded once and disappeared back through the doorway.
A moment later, another man walked into the room. He was tall, with a lean, wiry build. He wore a scuffed leather jacket, faded jeans, and worn boots that were utterly out of place in the elegant Georgetown home. He had a handsome, almost pretty face, but it was marred by a shadow of dissipation around his eyes. He looked like trouble.
Jaycob frowned, his lawyerly instincts on high alert. "Who is this? What is going on?"
But Carlee wasn't listening. She was staring at the man. Every drop of color drained from her face. It was as if someone had pulled a plug and her life force was emptying onto the expensive hardwood floor. Her mouth fell open slightly, and a tremor started in her hands, so violent she had to grip the edge of the table to steady herself.
Genevieve watched this reaction with clinical detachment. It was exactly as she had predicted.
The man, Leo Vance, paid no attention to Jaycob. His eyes, a hungry, assessing blue, swept over Carlee. He took in the designer dress, the panicked expression, and the ridiculously large diamond necklace. He let out a low whistle.
"Well, well," he said, his voice a low, gravelly drawl. "If it isn't my favorite girl. Still wearing my taste in jewelry, I see." He winked at Carlee, a lazy, intimate gesture. "Hey, baby. Long time no see. You miss me? It has been so long since we had some fun in bed. Have you missed how deep I can go, baby? My body is still aching for those wild nights we spent tangled in the sheets."
The words hit Jaycob with brutal force. His head whipped around, his eyes wide with dawning, horrified comprehension as he stared at his fiancée.
Carlee's lips trembled. She looked like she was about to be sick. She couldn't form a single word.
Genevieve, who had been watching from the doorway with absolute authority, finally moved. She crossed her arms, the simple gold band on her finger catching the light. Her calm voice sliced through the thick, poisoned atmosphere.
"Now, Jaycob," she said, "I believe we can start talking about that divorce agreement again." She paused, letting her gaze drift from Jaycob's stunned face to Carlee's terrified one. "Or, perhaps, we can talk about how much hush money your fiancée is willing to pay."
Jaycob's eyes darted between them, the horrific truth finally dawning on him. But the real devastating blow was yet to be delivered.
