The Bread Under His Pillow
She leaned forward, pleased. “Dad manages your personal assets, I take charge of corporate finances, Mom keeps the house, and Ashley gets a small payout to leave for good.”
“And if I refuse to sign?”
My father’s eyes went cold. “We have proof your wife stole millions from your accounts.”
“Real proof?”
“More than enough to end her,” Stephanie shot back.
I turned the wall monitor toward them. It played footage of Ashley kneeling on the kitchen floor while my mother pulled a plate of food out of her hands.