“I do not want your quiet money, Richard,” I said.

I stepped away from the door, my heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor.

“If I take your private buyout, the public never learns how you financed Daniel’s expansion,” I said.

“It is a legal transaction,” Richard muttered.

“It is a cover-up,” I replied. “The county records will show a standard transfer of deed. The neighbors will think we parted amicably.”

I stopped right in front of the desk, looking down at his trembling hands.

“I want the sign in the front yard,” I said. “I want the auction banners draped over your stone pillars.”

“You are being vindictive,” Margaret hissed, her voice cracking with emotion. “You are destroying our standing in this community over a marital dispute.”

“This stopped being a marital dispute when Daniel used my inheritance to pay off his mistress’s apartment,” I said.

The door downstairs slammed shut, the vibration rattling the glass panes in the office window.

Heavy, hurried footsteps sprinted up the stairs, bypassing the officers who tried to grab his arm.