Page 85 of Broken

“So?”

He clears his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. “Your wife returned her engagement ring this afternoon.”

I close my eyes and clench my jaw so tightly that a sharp pain radiates up to my temple. “For how much?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“You understand we can’t offer market value, Mr. James.”

“How much?” I bark.

“One hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”

That’s almost half what I paid for it. Fucking bitch! She sold our fucking marriage for a hundred-sixty grand. “Did she sell her wedding ring too?”

“No, sir. Just the engagement ring.”

Yeah, I guess the wedding band would only be worth ten or fifteen grand, which is chump change in comparison. She’ll likely hold onto that until she finds herself short of cash again. “I want it back.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And I’m not paying a dime over one-sixty.”

“Of course not, sir.”

I end the call and lean back in my chair, my heart pounding in my chest and my temples throbbing. So she sold the ring, but for what? Because that amount of money isn’t worth everything she put herself through by marrying me. Not worth giving up so much of her life for. I guess I have no idea who Melanie Edison is at all.

Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I blow out a breath before I dial my best private investigator. He’s a hacker too—not as good as Jessie Ryan, but this is the type of information he specializes in getting. After a brief conversation, he promises to have Mel’s financial records sent to me within a week.

Not that it will make any difference. Legally the money is hers to do with as she pleases, but maybe finding out what the hell she wants it for will make me feel less like going on a murderous rampage. Or maybe it will have the opposite effect. I guess we’ll wait and see.

Only four days later,I’m staring at an email from my PI. He must have noticed that my work for him has dwindled and wanted to make a solid impression. I click on the link in his email, and the records fill the screen. She has less than two thousand dollars in her account. So where the fuck is my money? Glancing over her recent transactions, I see one payment to Harvard for just shy of forty thousand dollars and another payment to Ashley for the remaining one hundred and twenty grand Mel got for her ring.

And now it makes sense. Ashley has another year at Harvard, and if Melanie wasn’t lying about her brother and the financial abuse, as well as the way he would use their sister to controlher, then it adds up that she used that money to secure Ashley’s future.

It doesn’t change what she did. But for some reason, I feel differently knowing that she used the money for someone else. That’s the Melanie I fell in love with, not the woman who lied to my face. My chest aches with the weight of the emotions that rage inside me. I wish I knew which Melanie Edison was the real one.

Chapter

Forty-Six

MELANIE

Ifish in my purse for my key to Tyler’s apartment, juggling the bag of groceries in my other hand, when I hear footsteps behind me. The familiar heavy tread makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

With a thumping heart, I look over my shoulder and come face-to-face with my brother. “I have nothing to say to you, Bryce.”

Grabbing my arm, he spins me around and slams me against the door, knocking the wind out of me and making me drop the bag of groceries.

Bryce’s face twists into a vicious snarl. “Did you know we just lost our biggest contract? The only thing keeping us from going under? All the investors I had lined up won’t even return my calls. All because you couldn’t stick to the fucking plan. You ruined everything, you stupid bitch.”

I square up to him, unwilling to play the role of dutiful little sister for a second longer. “There was no plan. You had someonedrug and assault Nathan. You should be in prison. I hope he presses charges and you end up there. You pathetic weasel.”

He brings the back of his hand crashing down over my right cheekbone, and I stagger back, clutching my hand to my face. Tears prick at my eyes, but the sting of his blow hurts far less than the stark reminder that my brother despises me and always has.

He advances on me again and is about to wrap his hand around my throat when a deep voice booms down the hallway. “You lay another finger on her and you’ll be taking a fucking leap out of that window, pissant.”

I shiver at the tone and the familiar voice it belongs to but sigh with relief when Bryce backs away from me, fear etched all over his face now. Yeah, he’s a big man hitting a woman, but he would never stand up to a man, and definitely not to Elijah James.

I rub my cheek and mouth a silent thanks to Nathan’s older brother as he approaches. I have no idea what the hell he’s doing here, but I’ve never been more grateful to see anyone in my life.

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