The mediator pushed the final copies toward him, but Marcus didn’t even glance at the text. He scribbled his name with a jagged, arrogant flourish and tossed the pen onto the mahogany desk with practiced contempt.
“There’s nothing to divide here,” he said, directing his words at the mediator as if I were merely a piece of discarded office furniture.
“The condo was my premarital asset and the car is mine. As for the children, Jude and Sophie, if she wants to drag them along, let her, because it is less hassle for my new life.”
His older sister, Roxanne, stood by the door like a cold sentinel of spite. “Exactly,” she chimed in, her voice sharp enough to draw blood in the quiet room.
“Marcus is getting married to a woman who is actually giving this family a healthy son. Who would want a used up housewife with two kids in tow anyway?”
The words hung in the air, clearly meant to sting, but they fell completely flat. I had been submerged in their cruelty for so long that I felt I had developed gills to breathe through it.
I simply reached into my purse, pulled out a heavy brass ring, and slid it across the mahogany table with a soft metallic sound.
“These are the keys to the condo,” I said calmly, meeting his gaze for the first time that morning.
“We moved the last of our things out yesterday, so you can have your empty space back.”
Marcus smirked, a look of triumph crossing his face as if he had just won a war. “Commendable, Julianne, you are finally catching on to your station.”
“What isn’t yours, you eventually have to return,” Roxanne added, fueling the fire of her brother’s arrogance.
I didn’t offer a single word of rebuttal to their taunts. Instead, I reached back into my bag and produced two navy blue passports, fanning them out like a winning hand at a high stakes table.
“Marcus, the visas were finalized last week,” I said with a thin smile.
“I’m taking Jude and Sophie to London permanently.”
The smugness on his face froze into a mask of total confusion. Roxanne was the one who found her voice first, shrieking at me across the room.
“Are you insane? Do you have any idea what that costs? Where would you ever get that kind of money?”
I looked at them both, truly looked at them, and felt a sudden, wave of genuine pity for their lack of foresight. “Money is no longer your concern, Roxanne.”
As if on cue, a sleek black Mercedes glided to the curb outside the glass doors. A driver in a crisp, dark suit stepped out, opening the rear door and bowing slightly toward the window.
“Miss Julianne, the transport is ready for you,” the driver announced.
Marcus’s face turned a mottled, angry purple. “What kind of elaborate circus is this?”
I didn’t bother to answer his question. I knelt to pick up Sophie, while Jude gripped my hand with a strength that broke my heart.
I looked at my ex husband one last time before stepping out of his reach forever. “Rest assured, from this second forward, we will never interfere with your new life again.”
As I walked down the stone steps, the driver handed me a thick manila envelope. “From Mr. Silas, ma’am, all the evidence of the asset transfers has been compiled.”
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