He scooped Beryl up, cradling her limp body against his chest, and walked out without a backward glance. Only one sentence trailed behind him:
"Clearly I've been too good to you. Made you think you could do whatever you pleased. Fine. Then suffer."
I watched his retreating figure, smiling as the tears rolled down.
The man who once swore he would spoil me for a lifetime, who promised I would never know a moment of hardship, had finally died somewhere along the way.
Dennis's bodyguards seized me by the arms and dragged me out the door.
"Starting today, Mr. Sanchez is reclaiming everything he ever gave you. If you'd like to keep this hospital room..."
I smiled, and it tasted like ash. I turned and walked away.
"No need. Dennis and everything that belongs to him. I don't want any of it."
My phone and wallet were both confiscated. Because every last thing I owned had come from Dennis.
I stood on the street with nothing to my name, trying to flag down a car to take me home. But every time a kind stranger slowed to a stop, Dennis's bodyguard stepped forward and delivered the same line:
"If you're not afraid of crossing Mr. Sanchez of Grandeur Group, go ahead and let her in."