Chapter 2

I stared at the handkerchief on the ground. "I'm not apologizing."

Tracy frowned. "Michael, don't push me."

"Forget it, Tracy. He's not worth it. My hand hurts. I want to go to the hospital." Josh clutched his wrist and leaned against Tracy.

Tracy was a germaphobe. If I so much as touched her cup, she'd have the maid take it away to be sanitized.

Now this boy who reeked of paint and sweat was leaning on her, and instead of pulling away, she reached out and steadied him by the waist.

"Okay, let's go to the hospital. I'll find you the best doctor."

She helped Josh into the car. The Maybach drove off, leaving a cloud of exhaust behind.

I stood there without moving. The paint on my back was starting to dry, sticking to my skin and pulling at it painfully.

My phone rang. It was my assistant. "Mr. Grey, the bank says the loan won't be approved. Ms. Weaver put in a word."

She moved fast. I had refused to apologize, so she cut off my options just like that.

I took myself to the ER.

The nurse treated my wounds. Looking at the large, swollen bruise across my back, she asked, "Who did this to you? That's brutal."

"My wife."

After my wounds were dressed, I went to pay. On the way, I passed a VIP room door that wasn't fully closed.

I heard Josh inside. "Tracy, who was that guy? He looked pretty scary."

"Nobody important," Tracy said. "Just our driver."

A driver. In her eyes, I was nothing more than a driver.

"So when are you firing him? I don't like him."

"Soon. Once he's no longer useful, I'll send him packing."

I stood frozen at the door. Now I understood.

The Conlin City project was an abandoned, half-finished building buried in debt. Whoever took it on was doomed.

She wanted me to take the fall, clean up the Weaver family's bad debts, and then kick me to the curb.

Fine. Just great.

I took out my phone and texted my lawyer: [Draft a property division agreement. I want half of the Weaver family's assets. Not a cent less.]

Then I left.

When I got home, our housekeeper, Kylie Rogers, was packing things up.

"Mr. Grey, Ms. Weaver asked me to clear out the guest room and replace all the curtains in the house with colorful ones."

Colorful? Josh's style?

"She's bringing that kid here to live?"

Kylie lowered her head and said nothing.

The door opened, and Tracy walked in with Josh.

Josh was carrying a skateboard. He kicked his dirty shoes off right onto the carpet.

"Wow, Tracy, your place is huge! It's so much better than my basement!"

Tracy followed behind him and bent down to straighten his shoes. She smiled. "I'm glad you like it. This is your home now."

Then what about me?

I was sitting on the couch. The two of them walked right past me, and neither one looked my way.

When Tracy did notice me, she frowned. "Michael, why haven't you moved out yet?"

"This is my home. My name is on the deed."

"I'll pay you for your share. Now take your things and get out."

Josh walked up to me and whistled. "Hey, old man, are you deaf? Tracy told you to get lost. I've got my eye on this place. I'm turning it into a studio, and you're in the way."

"Tracy, you're doing all this for something like him?"

"Shut up!" Tracy said. "Josh is the purest person in the world. You have no right to talk about him!"

Pure?

He'd been expelled from college for stealing, and he had gotten a younger student at his school pregnant and then refused to take responsibility.

This was the "pure" person she was talking about?