“I’m taking the jet now.”

For the first time in six years, I smiled without any fear in it. Russell Vaughn had no idea what kind of woman he had just locked in his basement.

Chapter 4 — The Pen

Early the next morning, the basement door opened — but it wasn’t Russell. The head butler stepped in with a silver tray holding a glass of water and a set of legal papers.

“Mr. Vaughn says if you won’t apologize to Miss Fairchild, you’ll sign these,” the butler said quietly.

I read the title with cold hands. It was a divorce agreement demanding a total waiver of all marital assets and full surrender of custody of Phoebe. I nearly laughed.

Russell genuinely believed I was a penniless orphan living on his wealth, and that threatening to take my daughter would send me crawling back.