---
Julian's own security grabbed Chloe and pinned her on the carpet.
She thrashed. She was crying.
"Julian. Julian, make them stop. You told me to do this. You said you'd handle her for me—"
"Shut your mouth. You seduced me into it. You twisted my head. Don't try to spin this now."
Chloe's laugh cut through her tears, bitter and knowing.
"Julian Harrington. You've always been great at shifting blame. Punishing me won't save you. Evangeline Ashford is not going to let you walk. She's not going to let the Harringtons walk. Stop dreaming."
She was right. Punishing Chloe wouldn't save them. It wasn't supposed to.
Julian, father and son, didn't understand that. Julian was still talking.
"She won't do it. She's angry, that's all. She loves me. A woman doesn't hide her identity inside a marriage for three years for anyone she doesn't love. All I have to do is apologize. We'll be fine."
"Well? Pin her down. Beat her until she crawls. Don't stop until she does it."
On Julian's command, his security laid into Chloe. They worked carefully, hitting joints and tendons, making sure she couldn't stand.
Chloe screamed. Everyone in the room pressed themselves into their chairs, eyes down.
"I'll do it. I'll crawl. Stop, please stop. You'll break my legs."
To save her legs, she finally gave in. She took a piece of raw filet in her teeth, dropped to all fours, and barked her way out of the restaurant. The sound was so inhuman most of the diners turned their heads.
With Chloe gone, I moved toward the door.
Julian lunged for my arm.
"Baby. Where are you going?"
"I punished her. I'll never let another woman touch me again. Please. Come home."
I looked at him with something between pity and distaste.
"Mr. Harrington. Have you lost it? Control yourself. You don't get to call every woman who walks past you 'baby.'"
"We signed divorce papers. Or did you forget? Next time you see me, make sure you use the right name."
I pulled my arm free. At the same moment, someone said my name from the doorway. My real name.
"Evangeline Ashford."
Damien Whitmore had arrived.
"So this is the reason you wouldn't marry me? This one? Your taste is terrible. I'm better-looking. I've got better pedigree. And most importantly, I've been in love with you for ten years straight. He managed three before he cheated."
Every head in the room turned. They didn't know my face. They knew Damien Whitmore's. He was on the cover of Forbes every other month. Old-money royalty. Global.
He was taller than Julian. Better suit. Better jaw. Better posture. Standing next to each other, Julian disappeared.
Julian finally understood what was happening. We were already divorced. He'd already done the damage. He had nothing left to bargain with.
"Ev— Evangeline. Who is he?"
Damien didn't wait for me to answer. He looked Julian up and down like something left on the sidewalk.
"Who am I. Please. I'm her fiancé. They're obvious about it."
"You're divorced. She's not marrying anyone else. Get used to it."
I shook my head and almost laughed. Damien had always been like this. Direct. No hiding behind anything.
"Let's go. I haven't seen my parents in too long."
Julian chased me to the door.
"Evangeline. The Harringtons. What about the Harringtons? What about me?"
I stopped. I didn't turn around.
"You heard me the first time. As for you—we're divorced. What do you think you are to me anymore?"
He broke. Actually broke. The sound that came out of him was raw.
"If I hadn't done this tonight. If I'd pulled them off you before it got that far. Would you forgive me?"
"If you weren't Evangeline Ashford. Would I have realized? Would I have punished her?"
That was the question that would haunt him. He choked on his own answer. He couldn't say it out loud.
I didn't stop walking. Damien fell into step beside me.
There are no ifs. You made your choice. You made it in front of three dozen witnesses. There's no road back from that.
THE END