I nodded without a change in my expression. I knew this day would come, ever since Jace Carter became my wife's personal assistant.

"Fine. You have my word."

My wife didn't get angry. Instead, a playful smile touched her lips, as if she knew this was coming.

"Oh, I almost forgot. We'll add one more clause. You give up our son."

My head snapped up. The anger I had suppressed for years nearly boiled over, threatening to consume my sanity.

"Impossible!"

The smile vanished from Seraphina's face. She jabbed a finger into my chest, her voice rising to a shriek.

"Then you'll shut up and be the good little house-husband I need you to be!"

"You're thirty! Even if you wanted to mooch off someone else, who would have you? You're washed up! You can't even get it up anymore!"

The spot she poked was right where an old injury ached. The sharp pain sent me stumbling back onto the sofa.

Seraphina lit a cigarette, looking down on me with cold indifference.

"We're both adults. Let's not play these childish games."

"You're just trying to pressure me. Divorce? You just want to split the assets. Let me tell you right now, that's not going to happen."

"The money and our son both carry the Prescott name. And they always will."

My fingers dug into the armrest of the sofa as I fought against the pain, looking at the woman I had shared a bed with for eight years. She was a complete stranger.

The kind, loving Seraphina I once knew seemed to be dead.

Just like our eight-year marriage, which had withered away long ago.

Seraphina glanced at me and tossed a credit card on the coffee table.

"If it's money you want, that's easy. Just behave, and I'll allow you to see Leo tomorrow."

I picked up the card, snapped it in half, and threw it into the trash along with the other "gifts" she'd brought home.