He let that land, and then he went on, unhurried, merciless.
“The contracts you boasted of winning on your own talent were opportunities Ms.
Crawford arranged for you.
The loans that rescued your company from collapse — three separate times — were guaranteed by her private fund.
Even the estate in Bel Air that you call yours belongs, in fact, to a Crawford family trust.”
I watched the arithmetic finish itself behind Declan’s eyes.
Every deal he’d bragged about.
Every dinner he’d made me serve like a maid in a house that was never his.
Every morning he’d come home smelling of another woman, secure in the belief that he had built an empire and married beneath it.
None of it had been his.