Page 86 of Legacy
He stands, strolling back to the bar like he didn’t just ignite a war.
“Like I said,” he calls over his shoulder, “you didn’t read clearly enough.”
No.
No.
NO.
I slam the wine glass into the table and it shatters—fragments everywhere, red staining everything in its path.
My blouse.
My hand.
My patience.
I stand.
“I’m not fucking you for my jewels.”
My voice cuts the air. I’m shaking. Rage tightens every muscle.
He turns—calm. Measured. Unmoved.
His eyes trail the table. The mess. My blouse.
Then settle on mine.
“Then the jewel sector is mine.”
He pauses. A beat. Two.
“Then whatwillyou have in this marriage Adriana?”
The question slices deeper than I want it to. My breath hitches, chest heaving. My jaw is clenched so tight my breaths come sharply out my nose. The sting behind my eyes aches.
“Nothing,” he says.
Smooth. Cold. Icy finality.
He points vaguely toward the left. “Your room is the first door down this hall to the right.”
Then he turns away—just like that.
Like it was a business transaction.
Like erasing my choices—shredding my autonomy is as a simple as ink on page.
Dismissed.
He just dismissed me.
Bastard.
I stare at his back
How the hell did he win this?
