Chapter
Forty-Four
MELANIE
Iflop down onto one of the comfortable armchairs in the break room and sigh. Work has been ridiculously busy, but it’s also the only thing keeping me sane right now. When my mind’s not busy, it’s filled with thoughts of Nathan. Even two weeks later, the look in his eyes that night when he told me to leave haunts my every waking moment. The fact that he was taken advantage of like that, that some woman drugged and touched him without his consent, makes anger and shame burn through my veins. I only wish there was some way I could make it up to him.
Gah! This is no good. I need to get him off my mind. Perhaps some mindless TikTok scrolling is just what I need. But my pulse quickens when I pull out my phone and see four missed calls from Ashley. I’m staring at the screen, running through all the worst-case scenarios in my head, when the phone starts ringing in my hand and her sweet face flashes on the screen.
My finger fumbles as I try to answer it as quickly as possible. When I do, heart-wrenching sobs fill my ear.
“Ash, what is it, honey?”
“Buh-Bryce said I have to l-leave college.”
Rage sizzles beneath my skin. “He said what?”
After a long moment, her sobs subside, and she takes a deep breath. “He said that I had to come home because there’s no money to cover the rest of my tuition this year. He only paid half and he was supposed to pay the rest, but he said he can’t.” She sniffs again. “He said there’s nothing left.”
Our older brother is the biggest shithead I have ever known. He could get that money if he wanted to. There’s something left, or he wouldn’t be driving around in his fancy cars and eating at the finest restaurants every week.
“How much is owed?”
“Forty thousand for this year.”
I close my eyes and lean my head back. How on earth am I going to find that kind of money?
“I have a few thousand in savings. I could get another job, maybe …” She trails off. “I dunno. Even if I can figure out this year, I have next year to think of. That’s another eighty thousand.”
I rub my eyes, and when I open them, I stare down at my hand in my lap. The answer to our problems is quite literally staring me in the face. It will break my heart to do it, and it will probably be the final nail in the coffin of my marriage. But Nathan’s never going to forgive me anyway. I’ll find a way to pay him back, even if it takes years.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m going to take care of it.”
She makes a strangled sound like she’s stifling a sob. “But how, Mel? Where are you going to get that much money?”
“I can get it, I promise. Just trust me. Everything will be okay, honey. If Bryce calls you again, ignore him.”
She sniffs. “Thank you, Mel. I love you.”
“Love you too, Ash.” I hang up and prepare myself for what I’m about to do. Bryce is doing this to punish me, and I can’t let Ashley suffer because of my mistakes.
Chapter
Forty-Five
NATHAN
Istare at the painting of the beach we visited every summer as kids. Every brushstroke is infused with love and joy and reminds me of a simpler time, despite the memories of Mom painting it between chemo and radiation treatments, her body growing frailer each passing day. The light in her eyes when she had a brush in her hands and paint smeared across her cheek couldn’t be dimmed by even the darkest day. She finished it a few months before she died, and that beach is the last place I remember feeling truly happy.
Except that’s not true.
I shake my head, not wanting to think about the last time I was happy. When she sat on my lap in this very office before I left for Chicago. When I almost told her how much I loved her.
My phone vibrates on my desk in front of me, and I answer it without glancing at the screen, thankful for any distraction I can get.
“Mr. James, it’s Ernst. From Persephone’s.”
Why is a guy from a jewelry store I’ve only ever been into twice in my life calling me? And how did he get my fucking number?
Ernst clears his throat when I don’t reply. “Pardon the intrusion, sir, but I have your number on file, and I thought, given that you and your family have been such good customers of ours, you might wish to know …” He coughs but doesn’t continue.
“Know what?”
“For some of our more exclusive, exquisite pieces, we offer a buy-back option, rather than having the piece be sold via another jeweler.”
“So?”
He clears his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. “Your wife returned her engagement ring this afternoon.”
I close my eyes and clench my jaw so tightly that a sharp pain radiates up to my temple. “For how much?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“You understand we can’t offer market value, Mr. James.”
“How much?” I bark.
“One hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”
That’s almost half what I paid for it. Fucking bitch! She sold our fucking marriage for a hundred-sixty grand. “Did she sell her wedding ring too?”
“No, sir. Just the engagement ring.”
Yeah, I guess the wedding band would only be worth ten or fifteen grand, which is chump change in comparison. She’ll likely hold onto that until she finds herself short of cash again. “I want it back.”
“Of course, sir.”
“And I’m not paying a dime over one-sixty.”
“Of course not, sir.”
I end the call and lean back in my chair, my heart pounding in my chest and my temples throbbing. So she sold the ring, but for what? Because that amount of money isn’t worth everything she put herself through by marrying me. Not worth giving up so much of her life for. I guess I have no idea who Melanie Edison is at all.
Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I blow out a breath before I dial my best private investigator. He’s a hacker too—not as good as Jessie Ryan, but this is the type of information he specializes in getting. After a brief conversation, he promises to have Mel’s financial records sent to me within a week.
Not that it will make any difference. Legally the money is hers to do with as she pleases, but maybe finding out what the hell she wants it for will make me feel less like going on a murderous rampage. Or maybe it will have the opposite effect. I guess we’ll wait and see.
Only four days later, I’m staring at an email from my PI. He must have noticed that my work for him has dwindled and wanted to make a solid impression. I click on the link in his email, and the records fill the screen. She has less than two thousand dollars in her account. So where the fuck is my money? Glancing over her recent transactions, I see one payment to Harvard for just shy of forty thousand dollars and another payment to Ashley for the remaining one hundred and twenty grand Mel got for her ring.
