"You have the nerve to impersonate Mrs. Finley? You must be out of your mind! Take a good look in the mirror—a man like Morton would never look twice at trash like you!"
She reached smugly into her own bag and produced a red booklet of her own.
"Take a closer look. This is the real one. Morton and I registered our marriage a long time ago. I've seen plenty of women like you, showing up to run a scam. Stop embarrassing yourself!"
I lowered my gaze to the gold-embossed marriage certificate, and the coldness in my eyes sank deeper with every passing second.
Good. Very good.
Morton Finley. What a brilliant game you've been playing.
On one hand, you played the dutiful live-in husband for the Mason family, using my resources, living in my house. On the other, you turned around and married another woman behind my back, making a fool of me the entire time.
I didn't reach up to touch my burning cheek. I didn't argue with her. I simply reached into my bag, pulled out the property deed I'd just obtained, and slammed it down on the table.
"Sapphire Parsons. Open your eyes and read carefully. This house—see whose name is on it."