He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You sign this paper today.”

“And if I do?” I asked.

“I will tell Solene and the kids to pack their bags,” he said.

“They will be gone by tomorrow morning.”

I stared at him, stunned by the sheer calculation in his voice.

“You are holding my home hostage,” I said.

“I’m offering a compromise,” he said.

“You get your peace and quiet back. Your grandmother’s antiques stay exactly where you want them.”

“And all it costs you is a signature to make us equal partners.”

The kitchen felt incredibly cold.

Outside, a sudden gust of wind rattled the loose window pane in the pantry.

I looked at the document.

The bold letters at the top read: *Addendum to Property Deed and Post-Nuptial Agreement*.

There was a signature line with my name typed neatly underneath it.

Next to it was Rylan’s name.

“This is blackmail,” I said.

“It’s marriage,” he replied, his voice dropping to a soft whisper.

“I love you, Calla. But I won’t live as a tenant in my own life.”