Chapter 4Rich From My Hundredth Divorce

I stood on the steps of the courthouse, raising a hand to shield my eyes from the glaring afternoon sun.

"Get in."

Margot's perfectly contoured face appeared from the rolled-down window of a sleek black Maybach.

She never trusted me. Every time I came to file the papers, she had to see it with her own eyes.

I didn't argue. I slid into the rich leather interior. "Where am I staying this time?"

She rolled her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line of disgust. She didn't even want to waste her breath on me. I understood. The pure, unadulterated arrogance of a legacy heiress.

This was the ninety-ninth time. Margot was always paranoid that I would refuse to leave the marital home, so the moment I stepped out of City Hall with her brother, she would have a team of movers pack up my life and dump it into whatever condo she had purchased for me as a parting gift.

"If you really have nowhere to go, I guess you'd just keep clinging to my brother," she scoffed. "Giving you a condo is just charity."

"Drop the starving-artist act. I know exactly what kind of parasite you are," she sneered, looking out the window. "All that 'I don't care about the money' nonsense. You're just playing the long game. Reeling him in for the big payout. Too bad my idiot brother is entirely blind to it."

Honestly? Margot was incredibly perceptive.

I wasn't playing the starving artist. Every time Tim and I got back together, I quietly listed the condo she had "gifted" me, sold it to the highest bidder, and wired the cash straight to my offshore accounts.

But today, Margot didn't take me straight to the new apartment. She directed her driver to Fifth Avenue.

"This one. That one. And this entire rack. Wrap it all up."

She stood half a head taller than me, her eyes raking over my outfit with unfiltered disdain.

To play the perfect, devoted "trad-wife," my wardrobe consisted entirely of soft pastels, modest hemlines, and sensible flats. Low-profile. Submissive. Economical.

Under the envious, wide-eyed stares of the luxury boutique staff, I watched a mountain of garment bags pile up.

Next, she dragged me to an ultra-exclusive med-spa and salon, ordering a top-to-bottom overhaul.

When it was over, I found myself staring at a stranger in the full-length mirror. I was entirely captivated by my own reflection.

A champagne silk slip dress draped perfectly over my curves, the asymmetrical neckline highlighting my collarbones. A heavy collar of pink and blue sapphires rested against my skin, paired with a matching, brilliantly cut sapphire bracelet on my wrist.

I looked lethal. Radiant and breathtakingly expensive.

I swallowed hard, pushing down the intoxicating surge of vanity, and gently touched the cold stones. I looked at Margot nervously. "You aren't going to make me give these back after I wear them, are you?"

Margot inhaled deeply, looking at me like I was a peasant who had just crawled out of a sewer. "Who the hell would want to wear jewelry you've sweated on? If I put it on you, it's yours. Shut up and stop being so embarrassing."

...Her temper really was atrocious.

But god, I loved her.