I picked up the pen. Grant smirked at Chelsea. I clicked it twice, then set it back down. “Before I sign, Grant, I want to thank you.” He rolled his eyes. “For what, Ellie? Groceries?” “For never reading anything I put in front of you.” The smirk twitched. I reached into my purse and pulled out a slim folder. “Three years ago, when your startup was drowning, you begged me to co-sign that emergency loan. Remember? You didn’t read the restructuring papers I brought home from my cousin, the corporate attorney.” Chelsea’s fork paused midair. “You signed sixty-two percent of Voss Analytics over to a holding company. My holding company. Silver Harbor LLC.” Grant’s face went the color of the tablecloth. “That’s — that’s not possible.” “It’s been possible since 2021. I let you play CEO because it kept you busy and out of my hair.” I slid a second document across the table. “This is the board’s vote from this morning. You’re removed as CEO, effective 6 p.m. Your access badge stopped working forty minutes ago. Security is boxing up your office right now.” Chelsea slowly leaned away from him. “Grant… what is she talking about?” “And this,” I said, tapping a third page, “is a screenshot of the company card you used to buy her those pearls. Fourteen thousand dollars. The board is calling it embezzlement.” Grant lunged for the papers. I pulled them back. “Sign here, sweetheart,” I said gently. “Don’t make a scene.” The waiter appeared with the check. I handed him my black card. “Separate bills, please. His and hers.” Chelsea grabbed her clutch and walked out without looking back. Grant sat alone under the chandelier, staring at a pen that didn’t belong to him anymore. I finished my water, picked up my divorce papers, and walked into the New York night — finally, gloriously, mine.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, slow and deliberate, while Brielle’s friends filmed. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said, ‘before you redecorate, you should meet someone.’ The […]
