I deleted every trace of Jackson Sharp from my phone and blocked his number. Our wedding rings? I tossed them into a roadside trash can without breaking my stride.
Right on cue, a message pinged on my screen. Amy Kemp. The mistress desperate to leverage her pregnancy into a social climbing ladder.
**Amy Kemp:** [Ms. Henson, the hen who can't lay eggs. Have you thought it through? Are you going to pay me fifty million, or are you going to step aside and let me become the new Mrs. Sharp?]
A short, cold laugh escaped me.
"I was so busy deleting him, I almost forgot to take out the rest of the trash."
A few taps. Blocked. Deleted.
Finally, my world was quiet.
I dialed my father immediately after.
Dad knew my situation like the back of his hand. He didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Silly girl. The family required you to undergo a test of character, but we never said you had to smash your head against a brick wall."
"So what if you came back a little earlier? I would have handed the company's inheritance rights to you regardless. Not just because you're my only daughter, but because you are worthy. Only you are qualified."