Three Instances of a Lie

The third time Federico stormed into the hotel room with his entourage to find me in bed with a stranger, I didn't scramble for my clothes or offer a frantic explanation. Not like the first two times.

Savannah Cross, the Grayson Group's wealth manager, stepped forward, her voice dripping with poisonous sweetness. "Ms. Berry, this marks your third instance of infidelity."

"And according to the prenup," she added, "that means you forfeit all assets and relinquish custody of your child."

Federico’s patience had worn thin. His gaze burned with loathing as it landed on me.

He slammed the divorce papers onto the nightstand.

"The first time, you said you didn't know the man."

"The second time, you claimed you had no idea how you got to the hotel."

"This is the third time, Berry. What's your excuse now?"

He expected another clumsy excuse, another pathetic denial.

But I said nothing.

I just calmly picked up the pen and signed my name.

Then, I vanished from his world.

So why, when I finally gave him exactly what he wanted—when I gave up everything, including our child—was he the one who completely shattered?

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1

Savannah immediately snatched the signed agreement.

As if terrified I’d change my mind, she turned to Federico. "Mr. Grayson, she signed it."

Federico stared at me, his brow furrowed into a tight, angry line.

He clearly hadn't expected this. He probably thought I’d shred the papers and collapse, begging him through sobs just like before. "For Erik's sake," I'd wept, "please, just trust me this one last time!"

…

I capped the pen and set it neatly on the nightstand.

"I'll have my things moved out as soon as possible. As for visitation—"

"You don't deserve to be a mother," he cut in, his voice arctic. "You will never see him again."

I didn't look up. I just smiled faintly. "I was about to say the same. As for visitation rights—I don't want them."

Federico's cold gaze never wavered, but he shot me a look, clearly puzzled by my sudden resolve.

For four years, he and our son had been my entire world.

Hearing my son call her "Aunt Savannah" was enough to ruin my entire day.

To give him up this easily? That wasn't the woman I used to be.

"What a shameless woman," he sneered, as if he'd finally found the reason for my strange behavior.

"Willing to abandon your own flesh and blood for another man."

"So why did you bother scheming your way into my bed to have his child in the first place?"

I listened, feeling no desire to defend myself.

The first time he caught me in a "compromising position" at the art gallery, I was utterly bewildered.

I tried desperately to explain that I'd never betray him.

He, so certain I couldn't live without him, and with the other man having already vanished, leaving only a blurry security camera image, chose to believe me—for the moment.

But he still took our son away from me.

For my once-a-month visit, I had to book an appointment with Savannah a week in advance.

During the visit, she would trail me, "supervising" my every move.

I had to read her expression just to hold my son for a minute longer.

Any toys or clothes I bought for Erik had to be reported to Savannah, or they'd never reach him.

My spirit had been worn down to a fine powder by the time they framed me for the second "affair."

I'd found a job to fill the empty hours, but on a business trip to Chicago, I woke up groggy in a hotel room.

A corpulent man lay beside me, drooling in his sleep.

I called the police, but the examination showed I hadn't been assaulted.

The facts were clear, yet Federico remained convinced I just hadn't had time to go through with it.

After that, I wasn't even allowed at my son's school activities.

For every school event, Federico would send Savannah and order me to stay home, telling me not to "go out and disgrace the Grayson name."

When our son pointed a finger in my face and called me a "bad woman," he just stood by and said nothing.

The third time I was caught…

I was done playing their games. I would give them exactly what they wanted.

And now he had the gall to ask me why I was abandoning my child?