Chapter 5: The Offer

CARTER'S POV

David called me at six in the morning, which meant either very good news or very bad news. I was at the gym… the one advantage of Grace kicking me out was being able to work out at five without her asking when I'd be home… when my phone lit up with his number.

"Tell me she signed," I said instead of hello.

"Not yet. Her attorney responded yesterday saying they're reviewing the offer." David's voice had that careful tone lawyers use when they're about to deliver bad news. "Carter, I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me."

I stopped mid-rep on the bench press, racked the weight. "What?"

"Is there anything else she could find? Anything we haven't accounted for in the settlement?" He paused. "Because ten million is a lot of money to offer someone who technically gets nothing under the prenup. If she's smart—and her lawyer is definitely smart—she's going to wonder why you're being so generous."

I grabbed my towel, wiped my face while I thought about how to answer. David was good, one of the best divorce attorneys in Manhattan, but he wasn't my friend. He was my employee. There were things he didn't need to know. "There's nothing. I just want this done fast and clean. No drama, no drawn-out court battles. Ten million makes that happen."

"Or it makes her think you're hiding something worth more than ten million." David sighed. "Look, it's your money and your decision. But in my professional opinion, you're showing your hand. If there really is nothing else, you should've started lower, let her negotiate up. Now she knows you're motivated."

"I'm motivated to get back to my life. Grace is… she's emotional right now. She's hurt and angry and she's going to do something stupid if I don't give her a reason to walk away." I headed for the locker room, lowered my voice even though the gym was mostly empty. "The NDA is the important part. She signs that, this whole thing goes away."

"The NDA prevents her from making public statements about your marriage. It doesn't prevent her from talking to investigators if there's evidence of a crime." He said it delicately, like he was testing my reaction. "Is there any possibility she could claim fraud? Emotional manipulation? Anything that would invalidate the prenup?"

"No." I said it firmly because I needed him to believe it. "We had a normal marriage that didn't work out. She's upset because she found out I wasn't faithful. That's not fraud, that's just divorce."

"Okay. Then we stay the course. But Carter, if she rejects this offer, if she decides to fight, it's going to get ugly. Are you prepared for that?"

I thought about Grace's face when she'd found the videos, the way she'd looked at me like I was a stranger. The slap that had come out of nowhere. The cold fury in her voice when she'd told me to leave. "She won't fight. She'll take the money and move on. That's who she is."

"I hope you're right." David didn't sound convinced. "I'll reach out to her attorney again today, see if we can expedite this. The forty-eight hour deadline you insisted on is putting pressure on everyone. If you want my advice, extend it to a week. Give her time to come to terms with this."

"No. Forty-eight hours. I want this done." I hung up before he could argue, then immediately regretted it. David was right… I was pushing too hard, making it obvious I wanted her signature fast. But every day that passed was another day Grace could dig deeper, ask more questions, maybe talk to the wrong person. Marcus had already texted me three times asking if everything was under control. The other guys were getting nervous.

The bet was supposed to be airtight. We'd all signed contracts, used lawyers Marcus had personally vetted, kept everything offline except for encrypted communications. But Grace had somehow figured out it existed, and if she kept pushing, if she talked to Stella or found a way into my office safe, the whole thing could blow up. Fifty million dollars split five ways was a lot of money, but it was nothing compared to what we'd lose in reputation and business if people found out we'd turned marriage into a game with a payout.

I showered and dressed, checking my phone every few minutes for updates. Nothing from David. Nothing from Grace, but I'd blocked her anyway after her lawyer comment. It was better this way, all communication through attorneys. Cleaner. Less emotional. Grace got emotional when she was upset and I couldn't deal with that right now. I had a company to run, investors to reassure, a life to get back to.

Marcus met me for coffee at eight, sliding into the booth across from me with his usual arrogance barely masking genuine concern. "Please tell me this is handled."

"It's handled. She'll sign." I stirred sugar into my espresso, didn't meet his eyes. "David sent over the papers two days ago. We should hear back soon."

"Should?" Marcus leaned forward. "Carter, we're three weeks away from the three-year mark. Three weeks. If she doesn't sign and this goes to court, if she starts making accusations about the nature of your marriage… "

"She won't. She doesn't know anything concrete." I finally looked at him. "Did you tell Stella about the bet?"

"What? No. Of course not." But his eyes shifted slightly, told me he was lying. "I might have mentioned something about agreements once. About protecting ourselves legally. But nothing specific."

"Marcus." I kept my voice low but let him hear the warning in it. "If Stella knows and she tells Grace… "

"She doesn't know. And even if she did, she wouldn't tell Grace. Stella's not stupid. She knows which side her bread is buttered on." He took a long drink of his coffee. "Although you probably should've stopped sleeping with Grace's best friend. That was sloppy."

"Stella wasn't her best friend. They barely knew each other." It was what I'd told myself at the time, what I'd told Grace two nights ago. Saying it enough times almost made it true. "And Stella was convenient. She was always available, never demanded anything, knew how to be discreet."

"Until now." Marcus signaled the server for a refill. "What if Grace approaches her? Offers her money or immunity or whatever? You think Stella's loyalty goes that deep?"

I hadn't thought about that. Stella had been in love with me—pathetically, obviously in love in that way that made women stupid and easy to manipulate. But love turned to hate fast when you disappointed women, and I'd definitely disappointed her. The last time we'd been together, maybe a month ago, she'd asked when I was going to leave Grace. I'd deflected, made vague promises, and she'd cried after we had sex. I should've ended it then. Should've seen that she was getting too attached.

"I'll handle Stella," I said. "You worry about keeping the other guys quiet. If this blows up, we all go down."

"Which is why you need to make Grace sign that NDA. Today. Not in forty-eight hours, not next week. Today." Marcus stood up, dropped cash on the table. "And Carter? If she doesn't sign, if she keeps digging, you need to be prepared to do whatever it takes to protect us. All of us."

He left before I could ask what he meant by that, but I had a pretty good idea. Marcus didn't make idle threats. If Grace became a real problem, he'd solve her like he solved all his problems—with lawyers and money and if necessary, intimidation. I didn't want it to come to that. Despite everything, despite the cheating and the lies and the complete breakdown of whatever we'd had, I didn't want Grace to get hurt.

I just wanted her to go away quietly.

David called at noon. "She wants to meet."

"Meet? What for?" I was at my desk, staring at spreadsheets without seeing them. "Everything's in the settlement offer. There's nothing to discuss."

"She insists. Says she has questions about the NDA terms and wants to go over them in person." David sounded wary. "I advised against it but her attorney thinks it might help move things along. Face-to-face sometimes speeds up the process."

"Fine. When and where?" I was already mentally preparing for another emotional confrontation, another round of Grace crying and accusing and making me feel like the villain when really I'd just been honest about who I was.

"My office, three o'clock. And Carter… try to be civil. The more hostile this gets, the less likely she is to sign."

I arrived at Sterling & Associates at two forty-five, went straight to David's corner office without checking in with reception. He was waiting with that expression lawyers get when they're about to referee a fight they know they can't win.

"Ground rules," he said before I could sit down. "You don't speak unless I signal you. You don't engage emotionally. You're here as a courtesy to answer questions about the settlement. That's it."

"I know how this works." I adjusted my tie, wished I'd skipped the last coffee. My heart was racing and I wasn't sure if it was caffeine or nerves. I didn't get nervous. I'd built a nine-figure company before I turned thirty. I'd negotiated deals with men twice my age who'd tried to steamroll me. But something about seeing Grace again, about having to sit across from her and pretend this was just business, made my hands sweat.

She arrived exactly at three. I heard her voice in the hallway… thanking someone, probably David's assistant… and then she was walking through the door with her lawyer and I forgot how to breathe.

She looked different. Not worse, which is what I'd been expecting. Actually looked better, more pulled together than she had in months. Hair down and natural, the way it had been when we met instead of the sleek style my mother had suggested she adopt. Minimal makeup. Dark jeans and a black sweater that probably cost a tenth of what her usual designer clothes did. She looked like herself again, like the woman who'd walked away from modeling to start her own design business, and something in my chest twisted uncomfortably.

Her lawyer… Naomi, I'd met her at a few parties and hadn't liked her then either… carried a briefcase and wore an expression that said she'd enjoy watching me burn. Grace's face was carefully blank. She sat down across from me without meeting my eyes, folded her hands on the table like we were about to discuss a real estate transaction instead of ending our marriage.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet," Naomi started, pulling out a copy of the settlement offer. "My client has reviewed your proposal and has some questions before she makes a decision."

David nodded. "Of course. What would you like to know?"

"The NDA." Naomi flipped to the relevant page. "These terms are unusually broad. My client can't discuss the marriage publicly, can't make statements to media, can't disclose any information about Mr. Vaughn's 'personal or professional conduct.' That last part is concerning. It effectively prevents her from speaking about abuse, infidelity, or illegal activity."

"There was no abuse," I said, and David shot me a warning look. "Grace, tell them. I never hurt you."

She finally looked at me then, and her eyes were so cold I actually flinched. "You're right. You never hit me. You just lied to me for three years, cheated on me with at least six women I can document, and destroyed my ability to trust anyone. But no, you never hit me."

"Mrs. Vaughn." David's voice was soothing, professional. "The NDA is standard in high-net-worth divorces. It protects both parties from defamation and ensures privacy. And as you can see, there are exceptions built in for legal proceedings. If you're subpoenaed or required by law to testify, you're not bound by the agreement."

"But I can't voluntarily speak out. I can't tell my side of the story." Grace kept her eyes on me. "That's what you want, isn't it, Carter? To make sure no one knows what you really are."

"I want to protect my privacy and my business. That's not unreasonable." I forced myself to sound calm. "You're getting ten million dollars, Grace. That's more than generous considering the prenup gives you nothing. Take the money and move on with your life."

"Ten million to forget three years of manipulation." She said it quietly but there was steel underneath. "To pretend I wasn't humiliated and betrayed. To let you walk away without consequences."

"There are always consequences. We're getting divorced. That's a consequence." I leaned forward, tried to find some remnant of the woman who'd loved me, who'd believed in us. "But dragging this out, making it public, hurting both of us in the process—that doesn't serve anyone. This way you get financial security and I get peace of mind. Everyone wins."

"Everyone wins," she repeated, and something about her expression made my stomach drop. "Okay."

Naomi's head snapped toward her. "Grace… "

"I'll sign." Grace pulled the papers across the table, accepted the pen David offered. "All of it. The divorce terms, the asset split, the NDA. Everything."

I stared at her. This was too easy. Grace didn't fold this fast, especially not when she was angry. "You don't want to take some time? Have your lawyer review—"

"I've reviewed it. It's clear enough." She was already signing, flipping pages and initialing in all the right places. Her handwriting was steady, no hesitation. "Ten million dollars in exchange for my silence. That's the deal."

Naomi put a hand on Grace's arm. "We should discuss this privately. You don't have to make a decision right now."

"I've made my decision." Grace finished the last signature, pushed the papers back across the table. "There. Done. When can I expect the money?"

David looked as confused as I felt. "We'll need a few days to process everything, prepare the financial transfers. Say forty-eight hours?"

"Fine." Grace stood up, and Naomi scrambled to follow. "Send the funds to the account information my attorney provided. I'll be out of the apartment by the end of the week."

"Grace, wait." I stood too, not sure what I was going to say but knowing this was wrong somehow. She was giving up too easily, which meant she had something planned. "You understand what you're signing? You can't change your mind after the money transfers."

"I understand perfectly." She finally looked at me again and her smile was the scariest thing I'd ever seen. Cold and sharp and absolutely certain. "You're buying my silence for ten million dollars. That's the deal. I agreed to it."

She headed for the door and I followed, ignoring David's protests. Caught her in the hallway while Naomi was gathering their things. "What are you planning?"

"Planning? I'm not planning anything." She tilted her head, studied me like I was something mildly interesting under a microscope. "I'm taking your money and moving on with my life. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You're too calm. You were falling apart two days ago and now you're… what, you're fine? You've accepted this?" I searched her face for something, any sign of the woman I'd married. "I don't believe you."

"I don't particularly care what you believe." She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume. The same one she'd worn since we met, the one that used to make me think of sex and lazy mornings. Now it just made me uneasy. "You thought I'd fight you. You thought I'd make a scene, drag this through the courts, try to expose you. But I'm not going to do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're right. The prenup is solid and I'd walk away with nothing if I fought it. Ten million is more than I'd get anywhere else." She paused, let that sink in. "So congratulations, Carter. You win. You get to keep your reputation and your fortune and your boys' club and whatever sick bet you have going. I get enough money to start over somewhere you'll never find me."

"Grace… "

"But you should know something." She moved even closer, and her voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear. "You'll regret this. Maybe not today. Maybe not next week. But someday you're going to look around at your empty life and your fake friends and all the money in the world that can't buy you back what you destroyed, and you're going to regret it."

She walked away before I could respond, leaving me standing in the hallway of my lawyer's office feeling like I'd just lost something important. Which was stupid. I'd won. She'd signed the papers, agreed to the NDA, taken the money. Everything had gone exactly according to plan.

So why did it feel like I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life?