Divorced With His Heir In My Belly
The air between our tables was electric with one year of hate and a thousand unspoken words.
"Five million," Tyler called out immediately, staring directly at me, not the stage.
"Six million," I said, my voice trembling with adrenaline.
"Seven."
"Ten."
The room went deathly quiet. Ten million for forty acres was insanity. Tyler leaned across the aisle, his eyes dark with a toxic expression, that tried to pull me back into our old patterns.