I'd just arrived at the neighborhood and decided to give it to him in person.
But as I reached the front door, I heard his voice.
"One fake news story, and the last million is about to land. All her assets are yours now."
Piers Stephens stood perfectly unharmed, his arms wrapped around my stepsister Julie Harding, pressing a kiss to her swollen belly.
"Once she signs the divorce papers, we'll be a real family of three."
Julie laughed, sweet and coy. "That idiot. You could put anything in front of her and she'd sign it. The asset transfers, the consent form to pull the plug on her mother..."
Bile surged up my throat. I clamped both hands over my mouth.
So that was his "heroic rescue."
The man I'd loved for four years hadn't just betrayed me. He'd killed my mother.
In that moment, I finally woke up.
What he didn't know was that the transfer agreement contained a clause.
The moment we divorced, every asset reverted to me automatically.
I wiped my tears and called my grandmother.
"I'm pregnant, but he's betrayed me. In one week, I'm leaving him and keeping this baby."
...
I sat in the car, silently repeating the name of the destination.
"Family of Three."