Chapter 3

Adrian didn't show.

At nine in the morning, I sat in the conference room with two copies of the divorce papers in front of me.

At nine thirty, Mia knocked and came in. "Serena, Mr. Prescott's secretary called. He has an urgent meeting today."

I nodded. "Got it."

Mia eyed me carefully. "So the papers..."

"Send them over."

"Do I need to attach anything?"

I thought about it. "A business card."

She blinked. "Whose?"

I pulled a card from my drawer. "Mine."

Mia's mouth twitched. "Serena, he knows who you are."

I said, "Remind him how expensive I am."

She took the files and left. I opened my laptop to work on cases.

At eleven, Adrian called.

I picked up. His voice was heavy with exhaustion. "Serena, do you really have to bring this to my office?"

"I sent them to your home address."

"My secretary got to them first."

"That's a management issue on your end."

Adrian held back his temper. "Can you stop debating every little thing?"

I looked at the complaint on my screen. "No."

Silence on the other end. "I didn't sleep last night."

"Then go have Vivian read to you."

His breathing grew heavier. "Serena, she and I aren't what you think."

"Okay."

"You don't believe me?"

"I do."

He was left with nothing to say.

I went on, "I believe you two haven't slept together."

Dead silence on the line.

I said, "But Adrian, the time, the patience, the emotional energy that should have gone to me, you gave it all to her. Whether you slept together isn't the only measure."

Adrian's voice was raw. "Then what do you want?"

"Sign."

"I won't."

I pulled up my calendar. "Then we do this in court."

He scoffed. "You're really something, Serena."

I said nothing. Then Adrian added, "Your firm's biggest client was a referral from me."

My hand on the mouse froze.

He seemed to regret it immediately, his tone softening. "I'm not threatening you."

I smiled. "You already did."

"Serena, I just want you to calm down."

"Adrian." I said his name. "Do you actually think my firm would collapse without you?"

He didn't answer. That silence was worse than any answer.

I hung up.

That afternoon, the legal director at Sterling Group, our biggest client, invited me for coffee. When I arrived, she was already seated by the window.

Her name was Crawford, mid-forties, sharp and no-nonsense.

She saw me and got straight to the point. "Mr. Prescott called me this morning."

I sat down. "Terminating the partnership?"

Crawford smiled. "He did hint at it."

"And?"

"I asked him whether Prescott Group's legal department was so short-staffed that he had to start minding Sterling's business."

I paused for a moment. Crawford picked up her coffee. "Ms. Ward, we hired you because of your skills, not because of whose wife you are."

The knot in my chest loosened slightly. "Thank you."

She waved it off. "Don't mention it. I've been through a divorce myself."

I looked at her. Her voice was flat. "My ex-husband also thought I'd never leave him."

"And then?"

Crawford's smile was thin. "Then he went through bankruptcy proceedings. I represented the creditors."

I couldn't help laughing.

She slid a document across the table. "Next quarter's renewal."

I opened it. The amount was thirty percent higher than the previous contract.

Crawford said, "Ms. Ward, I value professionals."

As I was signing, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: [Serena, Mr. Prescott didn't mean those things. He's just terrified of losing you.]

I showed the text to Crawford. She glanced at it. "The other woman?"

I corrected, "Attempted other woman."

Crawford raised an eyebrow. "You're very precise."

I replied to Vivian: [Ms. Hayes, I suggest you remember that texts can be traced back to their sender. If necessary, they can be submitted as evidence of harassment.]

Vivian didn't reply.

I thought she'd quieted down. Until I got home that evening.

A crowd had gathered in the downstairs lobby. Vivian sat in a wheelchair, her face ashen.

Adrian crouched in front of her, tucking a blanket around her legs.

The property manager spotted me and called out awkwardly, "Mrs. Prescott."

Everyone looked over.

Vivian's eyes reddened. "Serena, don't blame Mr. Prescott. I fell down the stairs on my own."

I paused mid-step. Adrian stood. "It's not what you think."

I looked at him. "I haven't said anything yet."

Vivian choked back tears. "But I know you're thinking I threw myself at him."

I nodded. She froze.

I said, "You've got a very accurate read on yourself."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Adrian's expression was strained. "Serena, she just had a fall. Can you hold back for once?"

I shot back, "No."

He gritted his teeth. "You never used to be like this."

"How was I before?"

Vivian suddenly reached out and clutched Adrian's jacket. "Mr. Prescott, it hurts."

Adrian looked down at her.

In that instant, I saw tenderness in his eyes.

Not obligation, not sympathy. A man's tenderness for a woman.

I said nothing more and turned toward the elevator.

Adrian took two steps after me. "Serena!"

I hit the close button. Before the elevator doors shut, he asked, "What do you actually want from me?"

I looked at him. "Get on your knees and beg. I still wouldn't want you."