“You need to review the asset division before signing.”
Bradley barely glanced at them. He signed with arrogant confidence and tossed the papers back.
“There’s nothing to divide,” he said. “The penthouse is mine. The SUV is mine. If she wants the kids, she can take them. Less trouble for me.”
His sister Brittany smiled cruelly.
“He’ll be marrying a real woman soon anyway. One who’s actually carrying his son.”
An aunt near the window added, “She’ll come crawling back in a month. Who wants a woman with two kids?”
Their words floated through the office, ugly and poisonous.
But they no longer cut me.
Maybe when a heart has been bruised long enough, it finally hardens.
I stood, opened my purse, and placed the penthouse keys in the middle of the table.
“These are yours,” I said calmly.
Bradley smirked. “Good. You’re finally learning your place.”
