Nearly two hundred guests stood across the lawn of the Whitmore estate. Above us, a drone camera hovered, recording every second.
I slowly removed my ring.
« The wedding is over, » I said. « And before sunrise, your family’s entire empire will be finished. »
Charles burst into laughter. « Your empire? You’re a salaried consultant who still drives a seven-year-old car. »
« Put the ring back on, » Vanessa ordered.
« No, » I replied. « You already made a fool of me for two years. I’m done helping. »
I wrapped my jacket around my mother’s shoulders and guided her toward my car.
Charles followed. « If you leave now, you lose everything. The apartment, your job, your connections. I made you. »
That was what he truly believed.
For two years, I’d let the Whitmores treat me like a useful but insignificant employee.
