Chapter 3He Divorced A Fake Bankrupt Billionaire

No one touched the bowl of dead shrimp at the table.

Except me. I peeled them with meticulous care, chewing the rubbery, flavorless meat. It tasted like victory.

Trent poked at his white rice, exchanging loaded glances with his mother.

Finally, Helen set her chopsticks down and began to perform. She dabbed at her dry eyes with a napkin. "Oh, I just can't sleep at night... Kyle's fiancé’s family is demanding a house in the city limits. With our family’s background, how could we ever afford that?"

Trent jumped in on cue. "Mom, don't stress. We're a family. Kyle’s problems are my problems."

He turned to me, his eyes swimming with a manufactured, calculating depth.

"Babe... look. That duplex you own in the Heights is just sitting there empty between tenants anyway. What if... we just transfer the title to Kyle for a little while? Just to keep up appearances?"

There it is.

My heart gave a cynical little thump.

Outwardly, I widened my eyes in perfect confusion. "Transfer the title? But that's my pre-marital property."

Trent reached out and grabbed my oily hand, masking his wince of disgust.

"Babe, just temporarily. Once Kyle gets married and the ink is dry on the marriage certificate, he'll transfer it right back to you. It's just a loophole. We're just trying to outsmart his snobby mother-in-law."

Kyle leaned in, his face shining with sycophancy. "Yeah, Georgia, I just need to borrow the deed for a few days. Once I'm married, I'll pay you back ten times over. I'll take such good care of you."

Take care of me. Right into bankruptcy.

I slowly pulled my hand from Trent’s grip and pulled a tissue from the box, blotting my lips.

"I mean... I suppose it's not impossible."

The eyes of all three Osborns lit up like wolves spotting a bleeding deer.

"But..." I furrowed my brow, chewing my lip anxiously. "I can't seem to find the physical deed."

Helen panicked. "What do you mean you can't find it? Are you just holding out on us?"

She actually lunged across the table, reaching for my leather handbag resting on the spare chair.

I snatched the bag away, pulling it to my chest.

"Mom, relax. It might be in my safety deposit box, or maybe my parents have it. I can just go to the county clerk and request a replacement."

Trent exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. "Great. That’s perfect. We’ll go to the clerk's office first thing tomorrow."

I added softly, "But, since we're transferring ownership, you guys will need to cover the transfer taxes. And... business is business. Kyle needs to sign a promissory note, heavily notarized."

Helen exploded. "A promissory note for family?! Georgia, you're treating us like criminals! Do you think we're trying to rob you?"

I looked at her face, twisted and ugly with greed, and felt absolutely nothing.

I pulled out my phone, pretending to check my banking app.

"Well, the rental market has been terrible lately. Two tenants just broke their leases. Money is tight, and frankly, I'm stressed. Giving away a million-dollar asset without a paper trail? That makes my stomach hurt."

Beneath the table, Trent kicked his mother’s shin.

He forced a tight, placating smile. "Fine. If a promissory note makes you feel safe, we'll do it. Babe, as long as you're helping my brother, whatever you want."

Beside my plate, the iPad screen lit up silently.

Operation: Upgrade.

Trent: "Stay calm. The dumb bitch is caving. I'm taking her to the clerk tomorrow to do a direct gift transfer. Once we're there, I have a buddy who works the desk. We'll make sure the promissory note accidentally doesn't get filed."

Helen: "Exactly. Just get the name changed. Once it's in Kyle's name, there's nothing she can do to get it back!"

I glanced at the glowing screen, then picked up my water glass and took a slow sip.

Tomorrow?

Tomorrow, I had a very special gift planned for them.