Chapter 2
Behind the closed doors, three hundred people were pretending not to listen.
Trustees.
Donors.
Reporters.
Friends.
People who had toasted our marriage less than an hour earlier.
My wedding ring was still sitting beside my dessert fork.
Graham knew it.
I knew it.
And for the first time that night, the foundation was not the question that mattered.
Neither was Hartwell Holdings.
Neither was Celeste.
Graham looked at me and asked:
“If I hadn't planned to remove you from the foundation, would you have forgiven the affair?”
I stared at him.
Of all the questions he could have asked, that was the one he chose.
Not:
How long have you known?
Not:
How badly did I hurt you?
Not even:
Is our marriage over?
He wanted to know which betrayal had finally made me dangerous.
I almost laughed.
Instead, I asked:
“Why?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because I need to understand whether this is about us or whether you're punishing me because of the foundation.”
There it was.
The answer.
Not the one he intended to give.
The one hidden inside the question.
“You still think this is punishment.”
“I think you called trustees behind my back, activated Hartwell's vote, humiliated Celeste publicly, and destroyed an announcement I'd been preparing for months.”
I looked at him.
“You prepared my professional funeral.”
His expression shifted.
“That's dramatic.”
“No, Graham.”
I stepped closer.
“Dramatic would have been throwing champagne in her face.”
His eyes flicked toward the ballroom doors.
“I didn't.”
“I know.”
“I didn't scream.”
“No.”
“I didn't tell the reporters about the hotel receipts.”
His face changed.
That one surprised him.
I continued.
“Or the apartment on East Sixty-Third.”
“Evelyn—”
“Or the trips you categorized as donor development.”
His voice dropped.
“You went through the accounts?”
“They were our accounts.”
“That apartment wasn't—”
“I don't care.”
That stopped him.
For perhaps the first time all night, Graham looked genuinely confused.
“I don't care where you slept with her.”
I swallowed against the pain in my throat.
“I care that you came home afterward and slept beside me.”
He said nothing.
“I care that you kissed me goodbye before meetings where the two of you were discussing how to remove me from the organization I helped build.”
“Those were separate issues.”
“No.”
“They were.”
“Then why was your mistress replacing me?”
His mouth closed.
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
He looked away.
For a moment, I saw something familiar in his face.