My Husband’s Ex Lived in My House for Three Years Chapter 08
Two hours later, Hannah’s social account posted a new update.
Hannah: [I’m Hannah. I sincerely apologize to Ms. Caroline Langley.]
Hannah: [I did insert myself into her marriage with Mr. Lucas Adams. None of the property or gifts had anything to do with Ms. Caroline Langley, and I openly admit my wrongdoing here.]
The comments blew up all over again.
[The mistress outed herself?]
[Lucas is done for good this time, right?]
[Caroline is ruthless. She straight up forced Hannah to post her own confession.]
[Hold on. Lucas buys a villa for the mistress, makes the wife live there, and then makes the wife raise the mistress’s cat? That’s a whole new level of insane.]
Public opinion swung entirely one way.
I switched off the screen, leaned back in my chair, and finished the last of my latte.
The bitterness spread from the tip of my tongue down my throat, and it felt just right.
The whole thing snowballed faster than I’d expected. Adams Group’s stock dropped almost ten points in three days, and several partners started sitting on the fence.
The board’s calls reached Lucas’s father, Keith Adams, at the office.
Keith Adams was a self-made man from the old days, and the two things he prized most in life were his reputation and the foundation he’d built.
On the fourth day, Keith came to the Langley family home in person.
I didn’t show my face, and my father received him in the living room.
I watched from the second-floor study window as Keith, his hair gone gray but his back held ramrod straight, sat on the couch and drank his coffee without the slightest trace of panic in his bearing.
I didn’t know what my father said to him, but Keith’s face was dark when he left.
That night, word from Lucas reached me secondhand through a mutual friend.
Keith had laid down an ultimatum. Sign the divorce papers, or step down as CEO of Adams Group. Two roads, and Lucas could pick one himself.
Lucas held out for three days.
On the night of the fourth, I got a text with only two words.
Lucas: [I’ll sign.]
My assistant returned the divorce papers early the next morning. Lucas’s signature sitting squarely on the line for Party B.
The strokes had a slight tremble to them, but he’d signed all the same.
I took the pen, signed my own name again on the Party A line, and handed it to my assistant.
“Take it to the courthouse.”
My assistant nodded and left, and the office door closed.
I sat alone at the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the city, sunlight filtering through the glass and falling across the two agreements on my desk.
Three years, and now all of it was back to zero.