Chapter 4

"Just sign it."

The next morning, Peter slapped a document in front of me.

"Supplementary Agreement," neatly printed, twelve pages.

Flipping to the last page, Peter's signature already graced the Party A signature line.

Complete with Peter Corporation's seal.

"Sign this, and we'll part on good terms. I won't make things difficult for you."

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from me.

"You can live in the house until the end of the year. I'll give you another card with twenty thousand a month. Enough for you to find new work."

Twenty thousand.

I'd brought three million in dowry. My father filled a sixty-million-dollar hole.

He was returning twenty thousand a month.

"What if I don't sign?"

He took a sip of coffee.

"If you don't sign, you can still leave. But you can't take anything with you. Including your dowry—let me remind you, the custody of that jewelry is in my mother's hands. She says it's hers. Want to sue? Go ahead, get in line."

He set down the cup and stared at me.

"Dorman, you overestimate yourself."

"What do you think you have? Your father's influence? Your father's influence works in business, but it's worthless in family court."

Mary emerged from the kitchen carrying breakfast.

Fried eggs, toast, fresh-squeezed orange juice.

She placed a plate in front of Peter, another in front of Andrew. Nothing for me.

"Peter, have breakfast."

She sat beside him, at this table, in my seat.

Ruth came down from upstairs and glanced at the agreement on the table.

"Sign it, Dorman. The sooner you sign, the sooner you're free. Look at yourself now—no money, no children, no lawyer. What are you still fighting for?"

"If you don't sign, don't blame me for being blunt—besides your father's connections, what do you have left?"

Peter leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, watching me.

I knew that expression too well—bone-deep certainty.

He was certain I would sign, certain I had no leverage, certain he'd won this game.

"Dorman, you don't have to sign. But if you leave me, you're nothing."

He smiled as he said this.

And my phone rang, the screen lighting up with my father's name.

I didn't have time to answer, because in that same second, Peter's phone rang too.

Peter frowned as he answered, and the voice on the other end said only one sentence.

I didn't hear the content, but I saw his face.

The color drained layer by layer.

He set down the phone and looked at me.

His lips moved twice without making a sound.

Ruth's phone connected too, someone shouting on the other end. Her face crumpled in an instant.

"What do you mean everything's frozen? What do you mean everything?"

Mary stood there holding the child, smile still plastered on her face, not understanding what was happening.

I picked up my phone and answered.

"Dad."

The voice on the other end was calm.

"Dorman, it's done."