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How on earth had she gotten access to that contract? Her words were too spot on to be bluffing. It couldn’t have been from here. I’d placed it in my safety deposit box at the bank immediately after I returned.

“Don’t be dramatic, Samuel,” her tone is insufferably calm. “The rules regarding the trust are binding. If this marriage isn’t real, you forfeit the money designated for this lousy excuse for a winery. As well as your own pocketbook.”

“I don’t give a single fuck about the trust,” I roar. I move into her space. The sheer fury radiating off me makes her take a half-step back. Her cold composure slips for a fraction of a second. “I don’t care about the fifty million. I don’t need another dime of that money for Sutter Creek or myself. I’ll make it on my own. And I swear to God, if you ever set foot on this property again, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

She narrows her eyes, realizing she’s pushed me past the brink of my usual stoic decorum. With a sigh of disdain, she reaches for the doorknob. “You’re acting like a fool over a woman who was paid to be here. An ac-tress.” She emphasizes each syllable.

“She’s my wife,” I spit. “I love her. What we are to each other is none of your damn business. You could never understand what we have anyway. You’ve never loved anyone but yourself.”

She holds my glare for mere moments before turning and striding out the door. Her heels click against the wet flagstone path in her wake. The moment her Porsche Macan roars to life in the driveway, my head begins to spin.

What do I do now?

Reaching for the wooden time capsule lying on the hardwood floor, I hit the front porch at a dead sprint. The night air is damp with rain, but I don’t feel it. Gut-wrenching panic is clawing at my throat. It threatens to suffocate me.

“Lex!” I shout into the dark. I scan the long, winding driveway, knowing she’s long gone.

I can feel the distance widening between us with every second.

She thinks I lied to her. That the dinner, the music, the flowers were all a ruse. Hell, she probably assumes I faked it all. The tears in my eyes, the words I said. The I love you was all a clever trap. A fifty-million-dollar act to keep her around for another twelve months.

I drop my hands to my knees, bending over as I fight for air. Heavy gasps tear through my chest. Rain starts to fall in earnest now, soaking through my shirt like a metaphor. Like tears I can no longer hold back.

I don’t care about the money. I hadn’t thought to tell her about that portion of the trust clause because I had no intention of pursuing it. But she doesn’t know that. And after everything I’ve done, why would she ever believe me now?

I straighten up, wiping the rain from my eyes, and turn back toward the house.

I’m not letting her go. Never again. Not without laying my heart at her feet first.

Chapter Forty-Four

Lexi

The windshield wipers swipe back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. The dark, rain-slicked road ahead remains a blurred smear of red and white lights. My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles are completely white, my nails digging into the leather until my fingertips go numb.

Another fifty million dollars for each year we stay married.

The words echo in my mind, drowning out the roar of the rain pounding against the roof of my car. They loop endlessly. Each repetition is a fresh blade tearing through my soul.

“If Sam can convince you to stay married to him for another year, he gets another fifty million dollars from the trust. And another the year after that.”

A bitter laugh nearly chokes me on its way out of my mouth. The sound is hysterical as it reverberates through the quiet car. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, but I don’t bother to wipe them away.

God, have I been a fool? A naive, desperate fool?

The candles. The roses filling every corner of the house. Al Green playing softly in the background while Sam wrapped his arms around me and whispered that he loved me. I’d waited so long to hear him say it. To look at me that way. It felt as if my heart might burst from the joyful emotions swelling within it.

I believed every single word. Standing there in his arms, looking into his intense blue eyes, I thought, he actually loves me. After all of this time, this is really happening. He really wants us to be together. Can it be real? Or was this a clever pitch? A calculated performance to secure his payouts kept coming.

I want so much to believe him. Especially knowing the vicious abuse his awful mother has committed over the years. Yet I’ve learned to protect myself after years of mistreatment. By him and so many of the men in my life. It’s clear that Sam isn’t the only one who needs therapy.

The hollow ache this has caused is so intense. I keep wanting to rub my chest. It’s as if my heart has been ripped out. I hit the turn signal, swinging the car onto the access road that leads back toward my small home near the hospital. The tires splash through a deep puddle, but I barely feel the jolt. My sobs have been replaced by numbness.

My mind flies back to the flight. That terrifying moment when he pulled me into his lap as I hyperventilated.

“I’m not leaving your side for a single second of this trip. I swear it.”

Was any of it real? Or was I just an expensive asset he couldn’t afford to let slip through his fingers?