She lowered her head, tears spilling down her cheeks in a perfect picture of wounded innocence.
Something shifted on Dominic's usually glacial face. He crossed the room and pulled Fiona into his arms, his voice tender.
"Fiona, don't worry. As long as I'm here, no one touches you."
Then he turned to me.
"Ava, the Calloways and the Prescotts are old-money families. When someone's in trouble, you lend a hand. That's loyalty. You've always been sensible and generous. Why are you making such a scene this time?"
"This kind of selfish, cold-blooded behavior will drive everyone away from you. Or was all that grace and virtue just an act?"
I looked him dead in the eye and spoke slowly, every word a blade.
"Dominic Calloway. I get up at six every morning to manage this household. I deal with your parents, your relatives, your endless social obligations. I smooth things over with your business partners. I calm your shareholders. At night, I organize your contracts and files. And through all of it, I'm expected not to care that you never come home."
"You think someone can fake that? Go ahead. Try it yourself."
I pulled the divorce papers from my bag and set them on the dining table.