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The case against Victoria was already moving.

I'd instructed my solicitor to pursue the return of marital assets — money Julian had transferred to her during our marriage. Bank records and receipts were straightforward. The sum she owed came to well over two hundred thousand pounds.

On the day of the hearing, she came in stripped of everything that usually armoured her. No designer coat, no performance of fragility. She looked at me with flat eyes and something like hatred, because we both knew the performance was over and there was nothing left underneath it.

The judgment was issued.

Afterwards, in the car park, she came after me.

"Pearl Ashford, don't think you've won anything."

I kept walking.

She ran to catch up, her hand raised.

Someone caught her wrist and moved her firmly to the side.

Julian.

He let her go and walked toward me without a word.

Victoria screamed at his back. "I waited for you all those years. You promised my mother you'd take care of me. Have you forgotten?"

Julian glanced at me. "There was never anything between me and Victoria. I want you to know that."

"It doesn't matter any more," I said.

And I meant it.

I'd already filed the paperwork I needed. I'd already made my decision.

The rest was just noise.