Chapter 3 - The True Colors
Grace was standing in the kitchen, her designer handbag slung over her arm, pointing a perfectly manicured finger toward the guest room where Theresa was sleeping. Fern was texting on her phone, entirely unbothered, while Alex stood by the island, loosening his tie.
"She is asleep, Grace," I said, stepping into the kitchen and dropping the black ledger onto the marble counter with a heavy thud. "Because her back is physically broken from running your illegal sweatshop."
The room went dead silent.
Grace’s arrogant sneer faltered as she stared at the ledger. Fern actually dropped her phone.
Alex closed his eyes, rubbing his temples in exhaustion, the mask of the honorable CEO completely dissolving. "How did you find that?"
"You funded this?" I asked, my voice trembling with a terrifying rage. "You let your mother threaten Theresa with jail time so Fern could play business owner?"
"It kept them happy!" Alex snapped, taking a step toward me, his voice hardening into something cold and unrecognizable. "Do you have any idea what they are like when they don't get what they want? It’s $25,000 a month. It's a rounding error for my company. Theresa is just a maid. I'll write her a check for five grand and fire her today. You will keep your mouth shut, or I will freeze every credit card in your wallet and lock you out of this house."
I looked at the man I had married. I saw the absolute cowardice underneath the expensive suit.
"You think you have the power to lock me out, Alex?" I whispered.
"I own the house. I own the company. You are just my wife," Alex sneered, stepping closer to intimidate me. "You have nothing."
I didn't cry. I didn't flinch. I just smiled.
"You're right. I was just your wife," I said softly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. I hit a single number on speed dial. "But before that, I was a Romano."
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Alex froze. Grace gasped, the color completely draining from her face as the name registered.
Ten seconds later, the reinforced oak back door of our kitchen didn't just open. It was violently kicked off its hinges.
