Page 155

It feels like ants are crawling over my skin, and I have to fight not to fidget. I’m not normally like this; I’m someone who can keep their cool through most situations. But Celine keeps looking at me like the cat who got the canary. I hate not having the upper hand, and right now, I know I don’t have it. Whatever they are drawing out, it isn’t good.

Halston reappears with a mug—coffee by the smell of it—and reclaims his seat. Then he pulls out his phone, turns it sideways, and begins streaming some college football game.

“Isn’t that a little rude?” Darcy notes.

“Says the person pretending to read a twenty-page document,” Halston drawls.

“I’m not pretending.”

“It’s the same set of divorce papers I’ve been sending to you for the last three months. Don’t act like you don’t know every word in there by heart.”

“You can never be too careful. I wouldn’t put it past you to switch up a clause last minute.”

Halston lets out a dramatic sigh, shutting off his phone and placing his mug on the table. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tilting his head slightly.

“Stop with the dog and pony show, Ms. Brinks. Let’s hear whatever new demand you have.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t insult me. We both know you aren’t signing those documents as they are. I could smell the sour glee pouring off the two of you the second you walked in.”

Darcy stops leafing through the papers and places the pen back down. She crosses her legs and leans against the back of the sofa, hands clasped in her lap.

“We want eleven percent of the shares in RARE Realty.”

“What?”

Halston glares at my outburst, and I clamp my jaw shut.

I couldn’t help it.

What a fucking ridiculous ask. The shares in RARE are split between me, Alonso, Ryan, and Evrett from when we first started—we each hold twenty-two percent of the total stock other than Ryan, who owns thirty-four percent. There’s no way I would give her half my shares. That would be absolutely insane.

She doesn’t even need them. All she would do is use them to try and make my life even worse. No way in hell I’ll let that happen.

“We would also like fifty percent of the sale on the Miami apartment.”

“Serious—”

Halston glares at me again, forcing me to bite my tongue.

I bought that place myself.

Yes, technically, we are still married so it would be considered marital property—but that is a thin thread to be tugging on because we sorted most of this shit out ten years ago when Celine and I signed the separation agreement. The fact that they are looking to make amendments now is a load of bullshit. At this rate, they would probably demand a portion of the rent Iget for my old place in Nashville or the investment property in Orange County.

Where the hell do they get off making these demands?

“Anything else?” Halston gestures his hand half-heartedly for her to continue on with the ridiculous list.

“Mm.” Darcy makes a show of peering up at the ceiling, pretending to think.

Halston was right. The whole thing is a dog and pony show. They are taking us for a ride.

“There are the Nashville and OC properties as well we need to take into account. Then, we should be good.”

I fucking—

My blood boils.