Chapter 4
Friday morning arrived bright and clear.
Emma stood before the mirror in her childhood bedroom.
She wore a cream-colored maternity dress and a navy blazer.
Her hair was pulled back neatly.
Her wedding ring was gone.
For a moment, she studied her reflection.
Six months pregnant.
Exhausted.
Heartbroken.
But no longer afraid.
Her mother appeared in the doorway.
“Are you ready?”
Emma rested a hand on her stomach.
“Yes.”
Her mother smiled.
“Your grandfather would be proud.”
Emma looked toward the framed photograph on her dresser.
An elderly man standing beside a little girl holding a basket of tomatoes.
She touched the frame.
“I wish he could see this.”
Her mother stepped closer.
“Sweetheart, he didn't leave you that money so you could punish people.”
Emma nodded.
“I know.”
“He left it so nobody could decide your worth for you.”
Emma looked at herself one last time.
Then she picked up her handbag.
“That's exactly what I'm going to remember.”
At 9:57 a.m., Andrew Weston entered the forty-second floor of Ashford Capital's Manhattan headquarters.
He expected a negotiation.
He expected old executives.
He expected to intimidate whoever had threatened his financing.
Instead, he found his wife sitting at the head of the conference table.
Emma.
Calm.
Beautiful.
Pregnant.
And surrounded by six attorneys.
Andrew stopped so abruptly that Richard nearly collided with him.
“What are you doing here?”
Emma looked up.
“Good morning, Andrew.”
His eyes moved around the room.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
Margaret Hale stood.
“Mr. Weston, please take a seat.”
Andrew ignored her.
He stared at Emma.
“Did your father put you up to this?”
Emma folded her hands.
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
She glanced toward Thomas.
He pressed a button.
The screen behind her illuminated.
ASHFORD FAMILY TRUST
BENEFICIAL OWNER: EMMA ASHFORD WESTON
Andrew read the words.
His face went blank.
Then he laughed.
“That's impossible.”
Emma said nothing.
“Your father is a farmer.”
“Yes.”
“Your grandfather was a teacher.”
“He was.”
Andrew looked toward Margaret.
“What is this?”
Margaret answered.
“Your wife is the principal beneficiary of the trust that provided the financing supporting your company.”
Andrew stared at Emma.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“The night you kissed Lila at the charity ball.”
Silence.
Richard slowly lowered himself into a chair.
Andrew's eyes darted toward the financial statements on the screen.
The outstanding loans.
The investment agreements.
The voting rights.
Then the realization hit.
His company.
His buildings.
His luxurious lifestyle.
Everything he'd used to make Emma feel small.
All of it depended on a financial institution connected to the woman he'd publicly humiliated.
He swallowed.
“Emma, sweetheart—”
She raised one hand.
“Don't.”
His mouth closed.
“You don't get to call me that anymore.”
Margaret slid a document across the table.
“The investigation has identified approximately eight million dollars in potentially unauthorized payments, including transfers associated with Mr. Vale and Ms. Summers. The findings have been referred to the appropriate authorities.”
Richard turned white.
Andrew stood.
“You can't prove any of that.”
Margaret remained composed.
“The investigators will determine that.”
Andrew looked at Emma.
“Are you seriously trying to destroy me?”
Emma tilted her head.
“Destroy you?”
Her voice was quiet.
“Andrew, I spent two years trying to save our marriage while you lied to me.”
He opened his mouth.
She continued.
“I carried your child while you told another woman she would replace me.”
“Emma—”
“You kissed her in front of hundreds of people because you thought humiliating me would make me easier to control.”
Andrew looked away.
“And when that wasn't enough, someone forged my signature to obtain my medical records.”
His face tightened.
“That wasn't me.”
“Then you'll have no trouble cooperating with the investigation.”
Andrew turned toward Richard.
Richard stared at the table.
Emma leaned forward.
“You told me I was lucky you married me.”
Andrew's jaw clenched.
“You said I'd have nothing without you.”
She paused.
Then she spoke the words she'd been waiting to say.
“Andrew, the only reason you had anything was because my family believed in you.”
Nobody moved.
Andrew slowly sat down.
For the first time since Emma had known him, he had absolutely nothing to say.
Then he tried a different approach.
He lowered his voice.
“Emma, think about our baby.”
Emma felt the familiar ache in her chest.
How many times had she begged him to do exactly that?
“I'm thinking about our baby,” she replied.
“Then don't do this to our family.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“You should have thought about our family before you tried to steal from it.”
Andrew's eyes filled with tears.
Whether they were genuine, Emma couldn't tell.
And for the first time, she didn't care.
“Please,” he whispered. “We can fix this.”
Emma shook her head.
“No, Andrew.”
She stood slowly.
“You can't fix a marriage by discovering your wife is wealthy.”
He reached for her hand.
She stepped away.
“You didn't want me when you thought I had nothing.”
Her voice remained steady.
“You don't get to want me now that you know I have everything.”