Chapter 93
Chapter 93:
“Silence!” Eleanor snapped. “Mrs. Lynch, remove this woman from my sight. She is not welcome in the family quarters p>
Mrs. Lynch stepped in front of Alycia immediately, forming a quiet but absolute barrier. Alycia looked to Cole for support, but Cole was staring at the floor, jaw tight, offering nothing. He did not say a single word in her defense.
Humiliated, Alycia turned and fled the room.
Eleanor exhaled slowly. She patted June’s hand. “Now, June. I called you back because we need to finalize the guest list for the annual charity gala next month. You must approve the seating chart p>
June rose carefully, her back throbbing with each movement. She reached into her leather briefcase and withdrew a thick stack of legal documents bound in a blue folder. She set it gently on the marble coffee table in front of Eleanor.
“I am sorry, Grandmother,” June said, her voice calm and steady. “But I will not be attending the gala as Mrs. Compton p>
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Cole’s eyes snapped to the table.
Printed in bold black letters across the top of the folder were the words: Expedited Divorce Settlement.
The air left the room.
Cole’s heart stopped. A cold, paralyzing terror shot through his veins. He lunged forward, his hand snatching the folder from the table. He flipped it open. On the final page, June’s signature sat in dark blue ink — neat, deliberate, final.
He stared at her handwriting. Just last night, he had been sitting in the dark of the Maybach, watching her sleep, carefully drawing a cashmere blanket over her shoulders. A rare and fragile peace had settled in his chest in that moment — a quiet, unguarded recognition of what her presence meant to him. Now, looking down at this legal death warrant for their marriage, he felt that fleeting peace being violently torn away.
A suffocating panic clawed at Cole’s throat. His ego, terrified of the vulnerability and the sudden, gaping loss opening inside him, reached for its only defense: vicious, blinding cruelty. He needed the wall of anger to hide behind.
He threw the folder back onto the table and let out a harsh, ugly laugh.
“So desperate for the settlement money?” Cole sneered, his eyes wild. “What is the rush, June? Are you in such a hurry to take my money so you can go fund that pathetic nerd Vance’s little science projects p>
Eleanor gasped and raised her cane, ready to strike her grandson for the insult.
June held up her hand, stopping her.
She turned to face Cole fully, meeting his desperate, furious eyes. She did not cry. She did not defend herself.
Instead, a slow, breathtakingly cold smile spread across her lips.
“An investment?” Her voice was arctic. “Yes. I have been evaluating my portfolio. It seems that redirecting non-performing assets from a failing emotional venture into a high-growth, high-intellect opportunity — such as the work Dr. Vance is doing — is the most logical financial decision I could possibly make p>
Cole staggered backward. His boots scraped against the rug.