“A man who signs certified return receipts from a maternity ward and hides four living sons is not someone I can sign a legal contract with,” she added flatly.

She unfolded her arms and held out her right hand to me across the marble counter.

“Thank you for bringing those certified hospital records tonight, Grace,” Natalie said as we shook hands firmly.

“You saved me from marrying a man who lives behind false appearances,” Natalie said softly before turning toward the coat check.

I watched her walk out into the foyer, pick up her coat, and drive away from the estate without looking back at Ethan even once.

At ten to midnight, I walked back toward the head of the long mahogany dining table.