oyota, felt like a trespasser as it rolled up the long, manicured driveway. He didn't park in

st imperceptible limp, a ghost of the accident that had served as the perfect cover for his exile. It w

at cost more than his monthly earnings. Surprise flickered ac

her tone accusatory. No mention of Jett. No hi

lling the air, and went straight into the walk-in closet. It was the size of

t a small, w

ad given him. His father's watch. He left the expensive suits and shoes the Barlowe

nevieve's voice was shar

her, his expression unreadable. "I'm packing," he

, sharp laugh of disbelief. "Divorce? Are you insa

oom. "This. All of this. It belon

ty where she did her makeup and placed a single folded document on

he prepared o

saw the papers. The laughter d

shed, replaced by a frantic, calculated panic.

al whisper. "Not now. You can't. Clarissa's wedding

t not for their marr

t for one more day," she insisted. "It

n met her eyes. His were cold, empty. "Your re

ed his

gly, hysterical woman beneath. "You ungrateful crippled bastard! You'

e a scene before this wedding, I will make sure you

raise his voice. He just del

s voice barely a whisper

face, already pale, turned a ghastly white. The re

ber d

face. She opened her mouth to form a

ay. He picked up his suitcas

her easily, pushing her aside with a gentle but firm pressure that sent

he doorway, hi

he said. "My lawyer

apse onto the plush carpet, a crum

trembling as she dialed Jett's number. He

rything! He wants a divorce

n the other end of the line, th

o anything. He's a nobody. Tomorrow, at the we

d out of the Barlowe mansion for the last time, a black Rol

stepped out and hel

back, M

h to get into the car. Instead, he s