He threw me out on the street after inheriting 75 million, believing I was a burden. But when the lawyer read the final clause, his triumphant smile turned into a face of panic.

“I’m talking about my father’s death. The old man’s finally at rest.” He took a sip from his glass. “And that means I’m the sole heir. Seventy-five million dollars, Vanessa. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“It means we have an enormous responsibility…” I began to say.

He let out a sharp laugh that echoed in the empty foyer.

“We?” No, Vanessa. There is no “we.” You were useful when Dad needed someone to change his diapers. You were a good free nurse. But now… now you’re a burden. You’re a simple woman, without ambition, without class. You don’t fit into my new life as a single millionaire.

I froze. The words hit me harder than any punch.

—Curtis, I am your wife. I took care of your father because I loved him… and because I loved you.

“And I thank you for that,” he said, pulling a check from his pocket and tossing it into the air. The paper fluttered down at my feet. “Here’s ten thousand dollars. Consider it your payment for services rendered. Now, go. I want you out of my house before my lawyer arrives. I’m remodeling everything. It smells old… and you.”