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Chapter 22
Atlas
Tonight it’s my turn to wait for her.
I stand, silently staring out my office window as far-off headlights slowly make their way up the driveway. I gave her last night but tonight, she needs to be home, where she belongs. I sent Oliver to her friend’s apartment after getting the address from Mac.
He tried explaining four different ways why, for the second time in less than a week, he had my wife in his car without my knowledge. And when he looked me in the eyes and lied to me, I seriously considered using that pistol I stole from Freddy and ruining both of their lives.
“You summoned me?” The door to my office flies open, and Stella marches in, both guns already blazing.
“I’m sorry. I did try calling you first and sent you a text that Oliver would be picking you up by eight.”
“Yes, and I didn’t answer which means I’m not ready yet.”
“Well,” I say, standing and walking toward her. “Even if it sickens you to hear it, you are my wife and you cannot be running around the city, staying over at people’s houses… especially without my knowledge or consent.” I keep my voice calm although inside I’m seconds away from telling her if she does it again, I’ll knock some sense into her with a headboard.
“Knowledge and consent? Wow, that’s rich coming from you.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I want to move out. I ca—won’t live here anymore.”
I bite my tongue.
“I realize that things are very different now between us, now that certain information has come to light, and while I don’t expect you to forgive me, you signed a contract, a legally binding contract that stipulates you have to live with me until it’s expiration.”
“No.” She shakes her head, fighting back tears. “No, I won’t and you can’t stop me.” I stand there wanting to tell her that she’s angry and she’s reacting emotionally, but I know that will be like gasoline on a fire. “I’ll sue,” she says. “Yeah, I’ll sue you for making me an offer of contract under false pretenses.”
“False pretenses?” I ask.
“You lied about knowing me, about stalking me at my jobs for months. There has to be some legal precedent for that, and I know damn well there’s camera footage at both places.”
I’m not certain that she has a case or rather that she can prove that I did, in fact, stalk her. I could have easily went to Freddy’s and her coffee shop because they’re in the same neighborhood and while I’m confident there’s camera footage at the coffee shop, I can just about guarantee a dive like Freddy’s doesn’t have jack shit for security.
“You’re probably right and if I’m honest, you’d probably win.” I step closer to her. “But I won’t make you go through all of that, Stella. I’ll give you the divorce.”
She blinks several times. “I don’t believe you,” she finally says.
“If you’d rather go the hard route and sue me, you’re welcome to, but I’m offering to save you a lot of time and headache.”
“You’ll divorce me now and lose ownership of the majority shares? You’ll lose the trust; you still have almost four months till your birthday.”
“I will,” I acknowledge. She stares at me in complete shock or disbelief, maybe both.
“What’s the catch?”
“Nothing. No catch.”
“There has to be a catch. You wouldn’t throw away your one chance at owning Knight Enterprises.”
I walk around my desk, reaching into the top drawer and pulling out a docket of papers. I walk back over to where she’s standing and hand them to her.
“I’ve already signed them. There are red tabs where you need to sign, then I’ll file them with the courts in the morning and since it’s no contest, it will be finalized ninety days after they’re filed.”
She stares at her papers, her green eyes round and glassy as she looks at my signature, then quickly back at me. She’s realizing that I’m not bluffing; it’s written all over her face.
“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching back to grab a pen from my desk and handing it to her. “Here you go.” Call it calling her bluff if you want but I’m not backing down. I know damn well what Stella wants. She wants me. She wants this marriage and if I know her half as much as I guarantee I do, I know she won’t sign the papers… or at least I hope she doesn’t.
She reaches her hand out slowly. It trembles slightly as she takes the pen from my hand and looks back at the papers. She places them on her lap, the tip of the pen on the line about to sign when she looks back up at me.
“Why?”
