"She'll still be Mrs. Vance."
My body swayed in the cold wind. I stood there like a broken puppet.
So this was it. Three years of living hell—all orchestrated by you.
Fine then. I'll pay you back double.
——
I felt like I'd plunged into a frozen abyss. And still, voices drifted out from inside—Bertram Walker was speaking.
"Austin, she's still your wife. Before you married her, she was a pampered heiress. Don't you think this is a bit... cruel?"
"Last time I saw Pearl, she looked awful. Gaunt. Hollow. She's probably at her breaking point."
Austin's voice was flat, indifferent.
"We agreed on three full years. Not a day less."
"Besides, there's only one month left. She's made it this far—what's a few more days?"
Bertram hesitated, then spoke again.
"She came to me a while back. Begging. She only wanted to borrow a few hundred dollars."
"The Pearl Sanchez I used to know—the golden girl, born with a silver spoon—I've never seen her that desperate."
Austin let out a cold snort. "You didn't lend it to her, did you?"
"Of course not. You made it clear—anyone who helps her is dead to you. I wouldn't dare."
Through the haze of smoke, Austin's lips curled into a frigid smile.
"Smart man."