Chapter 3 - The Divorce He Designed
Naomi and I watched the files on the flash drive at three in the morning.
The first video showed Ethan in his office at Willow Creek.
He was speaking to a man I recognized immediately.
Gavin Rourke.
Ethan’s chief financial officer.
For years, Gavin had attended our charity events, vacationed with us, and called me “family.”
On the screen, Ethan opened a folder.
“She will sign,” he said. “She always signs when she thinks she is protecting people.”
Gavin looked uneasy.
“And if she does not?”
Ethan’s face hardened.
“Then we make her think the studio is at risk. She will do anything to protect those kids she funds.”
My stomach turned.
The next file contained copies of contracts transferring money from my production studio into shell companies tied to Ethan’s hotel group.
Then came the worst document.
A draft settlement agreement.
It was dated six months earlier.
Six months before Ethan told me he loved someone else.
Six months before Lucy entered our lives.
Six months before the restaurant, the Maybach, the quiet confession, and the suitcase in my old bedroom.
Ethan had planned the divorce.
Not because he fell in love.
Because he wanted control.
The agreement would give him temporary management authority over my production studio “until the emotional instability of divorce no longer affected my decision-making.”
He had even included language suggesting I was struggling after “a prolonged period of grief and professional stress.”
He wanted to make me look unstable.
He wanted people to believe he was protecting me.
And while the world watched him play the role of the patient husband, he would move my company’s assets out of my control.
I sat in Naomi’s office, staring at the screen.
“He never loved me,” I whispered.
Naomi looked at me carefully.
“I cannot tell you what he felt. But I can tell you he planned to exploit your trust.”
That was enough.
By morning, Naomi had filed emergency financial protection orders.
My studio accounts were frozen.
My private shares were secured.
The court was notified that Ethan might be attempting to manipulate assets through false divorce documents.
Then I did something I never expected.
I called Ethan.
He answered immediately.
“Amelia, where are you?”
“Somewhere you cannot reach.”
His voice sharpened.
“Lucy told you something.”
“Yes.”
“She is lying.”
“Then why did you prepare our divorce agreement six months ago?”
Silence.
“Why did you move money through my studio?”
“Amelia, you don’t understand business.”
“No,” I said. “I understand betrayal.”
He exhaled slowly.
“You are making a serious mistake.”
“You made the mistake when you assumed I would be too heartbroken to read.”
His voice became cold.
“You need to come home.”
“I am home.”
“Blue Ridge is not your home.”
“It was before you. It will be after you.”
Then I ended the call.
For the next two days, Ethan tried everything.
Flowers.
Messages.
A handwritten letter delivered to Blue Ridge.
He wrote that Lucy meant nothing. He wrote that he felt trapped by pressure. He wrote that he was sorry for hiding financial decisions.
But every apology came with a request.
Come home.
Meet me privately.
Stop Naomi from filing.
Do not tell the board.
Do not embarrass me.
He was not sorry for hurting me.
He was terrified of losing control.
On the third day, I received another anonymous message.
This time, it contained one sentence.
Ask Ethan what happened to the actress who tried to expose him four years ago.
The name beneath it made my hands go cold.
Danielle Price.
She had once been my closest friend.
And according to everyone, she had disappeared from Hollywood because she suffered a breakdown.
But suddenly, I remembered something.
May you like
Danielle had once warned me about Ethan.
And I had chosen not to listen.
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