Page 90 of Checks & Bonds

"You mean the oneyoucaused?" I shot back, my voice dripping with venom.

Richard gave me a long, measured look. "If you push this engagement, it'll be the final nail in the coffin for Henry," he said. "Everything will be ruined. You're the only one that can salvage this."

Wait… what? Breaking off the engagement could actually help Henry?

"If I... if I do," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "What'll happen to Henry?"

"Well, it's a step in the right direction," he said. "He may not inherit everything, but his grandfather's legacy won't be tarnished."

"And me?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Well, if you don't want the money, I guess you'd have your freedom," Richard said with a shrug.

Something tightened in my chest at his words. The truth was, I didn't want my freedom. Not anymore. I wanted Henry. But if this was the only way to save his grandfather's legacy...

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" I asked, my voice firm. "What if this hurts him more?"

"Without coming across as cold, Miss Reynolds," Richard said, his tone unyielding, "this arrangement was done to protect the Mathers legacy. Instead, it nearly ruined it, what with the choices you've made, whether you're seeing other men or taking inappropriate pictures of yourself."

My breath caught in my throat. I knew this wasn't all my fault, but I also knew I played a part in this.

"And Henry?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"At the very least, he'll keep playing hockey," he said. "He's already been drafted. That isn't going to change, especially if we pay off the kid in the hospital."

I clenched my teeth, feeling a surge of frustration. Jensen didn't deserve anything, but...

If Henry could still play hockey...

“All right,” I said, swallowing hard. “I’ll… I’ll break off the engagement. As long as Henry keeps playing hockey. As long as his grandfather’s legacy is saved.”

“Great.” Richard’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a crisp document. “I just need your signature.”

I took the contract from him, my fingers trembling slightly. I glanced at the fine print, my eyes skimming over the legal jargon. All those hours spent studying Contract Negotiations in the library suddenly felt worth it. I recognized the clauses, the stipulations. Nothing seemed untoward. It was straightforward—end the engagement, and Henry’s future remained intact.

My heart pounded as I reached for a pen. Signing this felt like giving up hope, like severing the last thread connecting me to Henry. But if it saved him, if it preserved his grandfather’s legacy, then it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

With a deep breath, I scrawled my name at the bottom of the page. The ink dried quickly, a stark black against the white paper. It felt final, like a door slamming shut.

Richard took the contract back, his expression unreadable. “Thank you, Miss Reynolds. You’ve made the right decision.”

I nodded, unable to find my voice. The weight of what I’d done settled heavily on my shoulders. Richard tucked the contract back into his pocket and turned to leave.

“If you need anything,” he said over his shoulder, “you know how to reach me.”

I watched him go; the door closing softly behind him. The room felt colder, emptier. I sank onto my bed, the reality of my choice washing over me. It felt like I’d lost something precious, but the thought of Henry continuing his career, of his grandfather’s legacy being saved, gave me a small measure of comfort.

I clutched my hands together, staring at the spot where Richard had stood. I’d done what I had to do. For Henry.

28

Henry

Minka left shortly after, leaving me alone in the house. The echo of the front door closing reverberated through the empty halls, amplifying the silence. I stood there; the void swallowing me whole. My chest tightened, my fists clenched.

Without thinking, I headed to the basement gym. The air grew colder as I descended, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me like a lead blanket. Flicking on the lights, I was greeted by the familiar sight of weights and machines. I grabbed a set of dumbbells and started lifting, the repetitive motion doing little to calm the storm inside.

I spent time thinking in my grandfather's study. Now, I needed to move.

---