Falling For His Dirty Trap
I say.
“And I saw that, but my savings are not nearly enough to cover even half the cost,” she says, unable to look me in the eye.
I reach over and flip the book to the very last page, where a check for fifty million dollars is resting. “I made provisions for that, too.”
Hillary goes silent. It’s so quiet I can hear her shaky, uneven breaths. She’s trying to take it all in, processing the magnitude of it.
“No,” she chokes out. “I can’t take this. I can’t.” She starts to sob, pressing the book back into my chest, her shoulders shaking violently.
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