Chapter 3

Graham leaned down and kissed my forehead as gently as if nothing had happened.

"I still have three years left on my agreement with the Prescotts, Audrey. Just wait a little longer."

I looked at him and Oliver, at how little either of them seemed to care.

Then I stepped back.

"Graham, I want a clean break. You can keep Oliver."

His face darkened.

"Audrey, you want to end this? And you're giving me our son? You think you can just walk away from him? Have you forgotten what you went through to bring him into the world?"

Oliver gave an impatient sigh.

"Mom, you're being dumb. You don't make any money, and you're turning down a mansion? When Mama Viv and I are eating fancy seafood, don't get jealous!"

He stuck out his tongue and ran away.

I watched him go, remembering all the summers I'd gone down to the shore to gather fresh seafood for him. By the time I came home, my legs and feet would be covered in cuts.

Graham and Oliver used to help me wash them, both close to tears.

"Mommy, don't do that anymore," Oliver would say. "I don't need seafood. I don't want you to get hurt."

My voice came out rough. "I'm serious."

Graham sprang to his feet. He pulled three black credit cards from his jacket and threw them at me. Then he looked down his nose at me.

"This is about money, isn't it? That's what all this is about."

For a second I was too stunned to move. Then rage swept through me.

"Fine! I'm greedy! I'm a gold digger! Is that what you wanted to hear?"

I scooped up the cards and slammed the door behind me.

By morning, I'd blocked the number Graham had called from all night and booked the earliest flight to Port Everly. I was leaving that evening.

I came home to gather my ID and documents and pack. Just as I was about to leave, a video arrived on my phone.

Graham and Vivienne, tangled together in bed.

My head rang. Then I opened the accompanying voice message.

"Audrey," Vivienne said smugly, "take a good look at the date. Familiar?"

June. Three years ago.

Graham had supposedly been away repairing cars for an entire month.

And I had just discovered I was pregnant.

"So you remember," Vivienne continued. "Here's something else. That drunk who accidentally knocked you down back then? He was my brother."

Whatever was left of my composure burned away. I saw red, and my whole body shook with rage.

I'd been coming home from a prenatal appointment, excited to tell Graham the baby was healthy, when a drunken man stumbled out of a private club in Halvern City and harassed me. I'd tried to fight him off. He pushed me to the pavement.

I lost the baby afterward.

Graham had been furious when he heard. He'd claimed he'd beaten the man nearly senseless and even shown me footage supposedly proving the attacker was behind bars.

Another lie. All of it.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded, barely able to draw breath.

Another video appeared.

"Ollie, do you like mango?" Vivienne asked from behind the camera.

She was holding my son on her lap. Then I saw the fruit in her hand.

"Stop!" I shouted at the screen. "He's allergic to mango!"

"Then come over to my house," she replied sweetly.

The threat was unmistakable.

I called the police and alerted reporters, explaining that Vivienne had threatened my child with something that could cause a life-threatening allergic reaction. I begged them to come with me and protect him.

But when we reached the Prescott mansion, Sabrina and several of our friends rushed forward, indignant.

"Stop pretending, Audrey! You're just jealous of Vivienne!"

"She treats your son like her own, and you're threatening her anyway?"

"Officers, you've got it wrong. Audrey has been obsessed with marrying into a rich family. Vivienne is the victim here!"

I bit out every word. "If she's innocent, give me my son."

The door swung open. Graham stepped into the room, his expression dark.

I forgot my hatred long enough to grab his sleeve.

"Graham! Oliver had mango! Please, take him to the hospital!"

He stared at me, unmoved.

"Audrey, haven't you caused enough trouble?"

I could only look at him.

"You think I'm making this up? You think I'd lie about our son's allergy?"

I was holding myself together by a thread.

Vivienne's eyes filled with tears. "Graham, you don't believe her over me, do you?"

He glanced at me, then drew Vivienne into his arms.

"Vivienne wouldn't hurt anyone. Apologize to her, Audrey."

I fought to swallow my tears.

"No way! Not until you give me my so—"

"If you don't apologize, then even if Oliver really is having a reaction, I won't take him anywhere," he interrupted. "Decide what's more important to you: your pride or your son's life."

I stared numbly at the man in front of me, so blatantly on her side, and felt as if someone had carved a piece out of my heart.

When I'd almost died giving birth to Oliver, I'd insisted the doctors save our baby. Graham had nearly lost his mind. Even through the operating room doors, I'd heard him sobbing.

"Audrey, I don't want the baby! I just want you!"

And now he was using that same child to blackmail me.

Numbly, I turned to face the sea of reporters crowded outside and apologized for everyone to hear.

"I'm sorry. I was jealous, so I deliberately spread false accusations about Ms. Prescott to attract attention."

Something struck my forehead with a sharp crack.

A thrown soda can.