“Really? Well, Shelly, since I’m still legally his wife, I’m pretty sure I have a right to do whatever I feel like.”

I fake right and she stumbles back a step, clearly afraid of me, which is smart. I’m a bit unhinged right now. I yank open the door, half hoping his meeting is with one of the women he’s cheated on me with.

Unfortunately, it’s not. It’s some plugged-up CEO type who I vaguely recognize.

“Amalie!” Armstrong feigns surprise, his wide eyes darting to Savannah in accusation.

“You pencil-dicked little shit.”

He laughs, as if it’s a joke, and nervously tugs his tie. “I’m in the middle of a meeting, darling. Now really isn’t the time.” Warning puts bite into his tone.

Screw his disapproval.

“It’s too bad I don’t really give a fuck what you’re in the middle of. You know what else is too bad, that you didn’t give a fuck that we were in the middle of our wedding reception when you decided to get a blow job from someone who wasn’t me! And then you have the gall to demote me? You’re a spineless sonofabitch.” I’m surprised I haven’t broken glass with the way my voice rises. I take it down a notch or seven as I address Mr. Plugs. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. This will just take a minute.”

Armstrong lifts a hand to placate him, which is stupid, because I’m about to go off. All these months of pent-up irritation are about to explode out of me. “It’s fine, there’s no need to leave, Thurston.”

His gaze darts back and forth between me and Armstrong. “You clearly have bigger issues to deal with at the moment.”

“Amalie can come back when our meeting’s over, can’t you, darling?”

I flip him the bird. “Don’t you darling me, you cheating ass.”

Armstrong’s smile is appropriately strained as he tugs on his tie. “I’ll have Savannah call you to reschedule.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“But we—”

He stops him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll call your father and explain. I’m not sure a merger with Moorehead Media is in our best interests right now.”

He gathers his briefcase and turns his rueful smile on me. “Miss Whitfield, I hope the next time I see you it’s under better circumstances.”

I return his smile with a fake one of my own. “Me too. My apologies for interrupting your meeting, but I just found out my useless husband demoted me while I was out of the country and he was off screwing around on me with every debutante in New York.” I’m definitely unbalanced. Thank God the door is closed and it’s only Armstrong and Thurston here to witness my spiral down.

Thurston purses his lips and glances at Armstrong, his distaste clear. “I might just stop by your father’s office so I can explain in person why I feel like business with this company is an unsavory option.”

As soon as he leaves Armstrong slaps his palm on the table. “What the hell is wrong with you? You just sabotaged a deal!”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” I toss the phone on the desk. “That’s Savannah’s.”

He blinks and blinks again.

“Nothing to say about that?” I cock my head to the side. “How many of your employees are you screwing around with? What kind of incentive are you providing for their services, because it certainly isn’t your exemplary bedroom skills.”

His smooths his tie again, as is his nervous habit. “This kind of childish reactionary behavior is rather beneath you, don’t you think, Amalie?”

“You’re one to talk! Doesn’t demoting me fit into that category?”

“You assaulted me and threatened me. You used my credit card without my permission, destroyed my personal property, whored yourself out during our honeymoon. You’re lucky my lawyer convinced me not to press charges or sue you.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I don’t even recognize the man I’m looking at right now. Or maybe I do. Maybe I chose not to see this version of him, always lurking beneath the pretty, polished exterior. “Who are you?”

“You need to consider carefully how you want to proceed, Amalie. Some things we just need to put behind us, don’t we? Now it’s clear you’re still struggling with how this is going to work—”

“I’m not struggling at all.” I slap the annulment papers on his desk.

He frowns. “What are these?”

“Annulment papers. The same ones you’ve been sent three times, according to Pierce. Sign them.”

“You’re being rash, Amalie.”

“What planet are you living on? How delusional are you? You’ve admitted to cheating on me even though you don’t think blowjobs qualify for whatever convoluted reason. Just sign the papers and this can be over.”

He slides them calmly across the desk and shuffles them together. “I’ll have my lawyer review them.”

I fight with my fists not to slam into his horrible, smug face. With shaking hands I withdraw my letter of resignation from my bag and drop it on the desk. “I quit, by the way.”

“Are you certain you want to do that?”

I don’t understand how he can be so calm. I think he might actually be psychotic. “I’ve never been so certain of anything in my life.” I lean in close, meeting his placid blue gaze. There’s no emotion behind him. Nothing at all. “I hate you, Armstrong. I loathe you. You make me sick, the thought of you ever touching me again makes me want to vomit. If I never see you again it would be too soon.”

“Well that’s not going to happen, is it? Your best friend is dating my cousin. It’s only a matter of time before Bancroft proposes. I’ve heard he’s only holding off because of your unstable mental state.”

His words are a slap in the face. Ruby and Bane having been living together for a while, but it hasn’t even been a year. I can’t tell if this is Armstrong’s way of baiting me, or if this ridiculousness he’s spewing actually has merit.

“And even if he doesn’t propose, we’re bound to be at the same events, dinners, that kind of thing. You’ll come around eventually, Amalie. I’d hoped your time in Bora Bora would have gotten all this rebellion out of your system, but it’s clear you need more time. You should try to get yourself under control soon, before you completely undo all my hard work.” He gestures to my face. “I’m amazed you would leave the house looking like that.”

“You’re unbelievable.” I have to force myself away from him, lest I wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until his stupid, unjustly inflated head pops off.

I leave before I can say or do anything else that could get me sued. Or sent to prison.

Eighteen: Home

Lexington

“I’m impressed.”

Those are words I rarely hear from my father. I keep my fingertips pressed against the table so I don’t give away my nerves. “Based on the stats I ran, with the proposed changes we could see an increase in revenue by five percent this year.”

My father taps on the arm of his chair, exactly the way I want to. All the Mills men seem to have adopted that habit. I’m working to curtail it. “Those are excellent numbers.”

“It should also translate into a boost in ratings, putting us back over a four-point-six for the review sites.”