Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
She takes a step toward me, and I bet she even thinks I’m going to let her kiss me on the cheek. Instead, I thrust the folder that holds a copy of our divorce agreement at her, growling, “Sign the fucking documents, Madison.”
She drops her gaze to the folder, then looks back up to me with a sly smile. Turning around, she walks into the suite, calling over her shoulder, “Come in and have a drink. We’ll talk about it.”
I storm in after her. “I don’t want a fucking drink. I want you to sign the divorce papers I’ve been trying to get you to sign for almost two years now.”
Truth be told, I haven’t tried very hard. Not personally, anyway, because I can’t stand to even talk to the woman. I put this in my attorney’s hands, and they make periodic attempts to get her to comply.
We had hashed out all the details long ago, and there hadn’t been much argument there. Before I married Madison, it was with the understanding she signed a very tight and ironclad pre-nup agreement. While she stands to get a lot of money from our divorce, it is a mere fraction of what I’m worth. Why she continues to refuse to take the deal is beyond me, but my personal thought is she enjoys wearing the Blackwood name. It gets her certain privileges, and she’s not ready to give it up yet.
I watch as Madison moves to the wet bar, then pulls the stopper out of a crystal decanter of bourbon. Of course, she was put in one of the top luxury suites at the resort, a definite perk of her still wearing the Blackwood name. She turns and holds the glass out to me, but I shake my head.
Shrugging her indifference, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a tiny sip. After swallowing, she says, “I decided I don’t want a divorce. I would like to try to give the marriage another try.”
Absolutely unfuckingbelievable. Not hiding the acidic tone in my voice, I say, “Tired of jet-setting all over Europe? Thought you might give domesticity a try again? Come on, Madison. You hated marriage to me as much as I did to you. What’s your real game?”
As if I didn’t think matters could get any worse, movement from my right catches my eye. I turn to find my father sitting near the window in one of the club chairs. He stands, a bourbon already in his hand, and casually presses his other down into his pocket. I am beyond stunned to see him, and I cannot think of a word to say.
My father’s eyes bore into mine. “You need to give this another shot with Madison. It’s time you provide the next Blackwood heir.”
I can do nothing but gape. It’s clear my father and Madison are somehow in cahoots, and he put this plan together to blindside me.
As my mind races, I barely notice Madison walking my way. She puts a hand on my chest, leaning in close so my father cannot hear her. “I personally like the idea of giving us another shot. I simply haven’t found another lover as good as you are in the sack, darling.”
I shove away from Madison, shooting her a glare I hope conveys exactly how fucking crazy I think she is. Looking at my father, I give a slow shake of my head. “This is pretty despicable… even for you, Father. But you both wasted a trip here. I am not now, nor will I ever, consider staying in this marriage.”
My father’s expression turns thunderous. He’s simply not used to people telling him no. “Even if it means I disinherit you?”
I know he thinks he has the upper hand with me, but I am not a fool. My worth to this company is apparent. I just sat through two days of board meetings, where most members looked to me rather than my father for guidance and leadership. “I dare you to try it.”
I have no clue how he even takes what I just said. It is not a bluff, but I have more important things to figure out. I turn on my heel and walk out of the suite, heading straight back up to my office.
Phone in hand before I even hit the elevator, I dial Bailey’s number. As expected, she doesn’t answer. I’m going to assume she is beyond furious and hurt, and she probably doesn’t want to hear my voice.
Tough shit.
I do not have time to work around her sensibilities because this shit is getting settled today.
I immediately send her a quick text. This time, I’m bluffing, but I hope she falls for it. I got your letter of resignation. I accept. You are, however, in possession of Blackwood property. I demand you come to my office and turn in your keys, your security badge, and your computer equipment. I will have release forms for you to sign. I expect you here by five PM.