The twins were sleeping heavily against my wet coat, oblivious to the storm.

“We did what was necessary, Jonathan,” Rebecca said, her voice dropping all warmth.

“You were obsessed with an art restorer who had nothing to offer our family empire.”

“My father had the political capital you needed to build the luxury division.”

“Harrison saw the bigger picture.”

“So did I.”

“You forged medical documents to force me into a marriage alliance,” Jonathan said.

His voice was trembling now, thick with betrayal.

“You stole five years of my children’s lives.”

“You made me abandon the woman I loved.”

“Oh, please,” Rebecca scoffed.

I heard the clink of ice in a glass, probably her pouring a drink to steady her hands.

“You wanted that empire just as much as we did.”

“You signed the merger papers.”

“You took the money from my father’s trust to buy the Manhattan properties.”

“Do not play the saint now, Jonathan.”

“It’s over, Rebecca,” Jonathan said.

His tone was deadly quiet, the anger turning into stone.

“I am calling the attorneys tonight.”

“I am filing for divorce.”