Ch. 26..30: My Husband Wants An Open Marriage Chapter 26-30

CHAPTER 026: A Queen Without Castle

CHAPTER 026: A Queen Without A Castle

I stare at her blankly. "Frozen? There must be some mix-up. Maybe the machine's acting up? That's my account. I would know if it's frozen."

The receptionist's expression remains stoic, as if she's used to dealing with late-night guests having issues with their cards. "I'm afraid so, ma'am," she says. "It's showing as restricted."

I feel frustration simmering beneath my skin. Whatever this is, it has Ryan's name written all over it. Yet, at the back of my mind, I doubt. It might be a coincidence, because I can't figure out any possible way Ryan could have done it, frozen this account without my approval. It's a joint account. There's a reason it's called joint, because two people have to sign off on decisions involving the account. So yes, there has to be a reasonable explanation for this. There better be

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask.

Angela shifts uncomfortably, typing again, like maybe she's hoping a magical solution will pop up on her screen. When it doesn't, she looks back at me. "I'm really sorry about this. Would you like me to try again?"

I force myself to breathe. "No, that's fine. I'll handle it," I say, pulling my phone from my purse. "Give me a minute."

The glass screen lights up as I open my banking app, waiting for it to come up.

But the app's icon keeps spinning, refusing to load. I can practically feel the receptionist's discomfort, and iny hands tighten around the phone. I tap again, harder this time, as if force might just get me what I need. Nothing. Then a message flashes across the screen: "Please contact customer service for

assistance."

"Unbelievable," I say. I look up, forcing a tight smile in the receptionist's direction as I step away, pretending like it's nothing more than a minor inconvenience. But inside, I'm boiling. First my card, now this? Today of all days? It's like the god of shitstorms is out to get me today.

My finger jabs the call button, and I wait as the phone rings. Finally, a voice picks up.

"Thank you for calling Sky National Bank. This is Sara. How can I help you?"

"Hi, Sara," I say. "I need some help with my account. My card's declining, and the app says I need to contact customer service. There shouldn't be any issues-I use this account every day."

"Alright, ma'am," she says in that painfully calm, overly friendly tone that customer service reps are trained to use. "I'll need to verify your account details before we proceed. Can you provide the account number, as well as the name listed on the account?"

recite the number, then my name. "Julie O'Brien. Actually, there are two names on the account, as it's a joint account, Ryan O'Brien and Julie O'Brien."

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Brien. One moment, please." I can hear her typing, the distant clack of keys only adding to my irritation as I watch the receptionist at the counter occasionally glance my way, probably regretting not swapping shifts.

Finally, the woman on the line speaks again. "Mrs. O'Brien, it appears there's a restriction on this account."

"Yes, I've been told," I say, forcing patience into my voice. "That's why I'm calling. I need you to remove

CHAPTER 026: A Queen WithouRA Castle

that restriction."

"Well," she says, "it looks like the restriction was placed by the primary account holder."

"The what?"

"The primary account holder."

I pause, feeling the words sink in. "There must be some mistake. It's a joint account. There can't be a primary account holder."

"Yes," she agrees. "It is a joint account, but in some cases, joint accounts are set up with a primary and secondary holder for security reasons."

"And which am I? Primary or secondary?"

"You're listed as the secondary holder, Mrs. O'Brien," she says.

Secondary. The word digs under my skin, sharp and twisting. "And who, exactly, is the primary account

holder?"

"That would be... Mr. Ryan O'Brien," she says, hesitating just long enough for my stomach to sink.

Of course, Ryan. It can only be Ryan. Who else derives great joy in tearing my world apart? He had the gall to block me from my own money? "So, let me get this straight," I say, clenching my jaw so hard I'm surprised my teeth don't shatter. "I can't access my own account because he decided I shouldn't?""

She clears her throat. "In this type of joint account, yes, any major restriction can only be lifted by the primary account holder."

"Why wasn't I informed about this ridiculous setup?" I ask, my voice rising despite myself. I can feel the eyes of the receptionist and the concierge drifting in my direction, but I can't bring myself to care. "I put all my savings in that account. Every last cent." My voice trembles, and I'm sure she can hear it through

the line.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. O'Brien," she says, sounding appropriately apologetic, though I can tell it's the kind of sympathy she's likely learned to fake. "But to regain access, you'll need to speak with Mr. O'Brien directly."

I let out a humorless laugh. "The fucking bastard."

"Excuse me?" she says.

I brush it off, shaking my head even though she can't see it. "Nothing, Sara. Thanks for your help." I end the call before she can say another word.

I slide my phone back into my bag, my fingers trembling. I glance back at the receptionist, who's waiting with a tentative smile, and I manage a brittle smile of my own. "It seems,"I say, "I won't be needing that room after all."

She hesitates, offering a sympathetic nod, "I'm sorry, ma'am. If there's anything else we can help you with

"I doubt it," I say, turning on my heel and heading for the door. The hotel's grandeur seems to mock me as I walk away, the glass chandeliers and polished floors all reminding me of the lifestyle Ryan's stripped away from me. And now, with my account locked and my options dwindling, it's like he's reaching out from wherever he is, still pulling the strings on my life, still making sure I have nothing left. Nothing,

except the bitter taste in my mouth and a smoldering anger the fed the could bum the whole cry down.

When I step outside, the cold air hits me. I'm alone in ew You without a single Solarcanaces an because several years ago, I fell in love with the wronginan, an atopite piece of str

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the street with its fiskering fights and blaring tads the c buzzing around me with no idea I've just hit rock botto

My hands are shaking, but not from the cold

"He can't get away with this," I whisper to myself. That was my money, my life savings my future was there for every long hour, every sacrifice, every drop of sweat, and the swoods and books me or of the one thing I have left. It's a new level of cruelty, even forfine I pull out my phone, pressing the screen so hard I almost cock it, my thun trovating his name in my contacts. Lord, help me, I'm ready to rain down hell on Ryan O'Bien

But then I freeze

This is what he wants. He wants me to call him, to admit defeat, to let him know I'm trotting without him

just as he said. He's waiting gining wherever he is, imagining me caling and begging from stand dog at his feet. And I'll be damned if I give him that satisfaction

With a deep breath, I pull my thumb away and lock the screen, burying the phone in my fist

We'll settle this in court, Ryan O'Brien,

1 glance around the empty street, wondering who's lefto call-who's left that I can turn to now that Ryan has shattered every piece of my life. My thumb hovers again, and I scroll trough my contacts, names flying by in a blur. I stop when I see it Luke.

It's late. He's the last person I should be calling, but he's also the only one who's ever STOWD WITET II needed someone, no questions asked. I press "Call" and listen as it rings, each tome dragging out longer echoing against the night. I'm about to hang up, cursing myself for even trying, when he picks un

"Julie." His voice is breathless, like he's been running What's wrong

I pause, my throat tight. "Sorry for calling so late. I'm kind of in the middle of nowhere, stranded. And I don't know what else to do." A beat of allence follows before I say it. "Actually, Lake, I'm homeless

CHAPTER 027: Safety First

A couple of minutes after I hang up the call, I see an Aston Martin pulling into the hotel's driveway at a crazy speed. It sounds a lot like it's heading in my direction. I quickly step aside, not wanting to add 'hit by a car' to my list of today's problems. That is until I see Luke flying out. He doesn't even bother to turn off the car before he's out of the door, his face hard,

"Julie," he says, "what happened? Did that son of a bitch kick you out?"

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. The words feel caged somewhere deep inside me. How do I explain the mess I'm in? How Ryan has stripped me bare of everything, left me stranded, powerless... humiliated. I try again, but all that comes out is a shaky breath.

Luke's eyes narrow. He's watching me carefully, taking one slow, measured step at a time. He stops right in front of me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, close enough that I can smell his faint cologne, something deep and woody that makes me want to pull him closer and take a deeper sniff.

"Julie..." he says, his eyes tracing over the lines of worry on my face.

He reaches up, his fingers gentle as they come to rest beneath my chin. His touch is warm. He lifts my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. I feel as though I've been stripped bare, exposed. But at the same time)

I feel safe.

"Julie..." he calls again. "What did Ryan do to you?"

His face is so close, his jaw set, his eyes sparking like he'd be ready to commit murder if I gave him the word. And, for one insane, fleeting moment, I want to tell him to do exactly that. To march over to Ryan and make him pay for everything he's put me through. But then I catch myself. I'm not the villain here. No amount of sob stories will make the judge not send

me to prison.

Before I know what I'm doing, I throw my arms around Luke's shoulders and bury my face in his chest. I feel him tense, surprised, and I wonder if I've crossed a line. But then his arms come around me, one hand tracing slow circles on my back, the other threading through my hair, pulling me closer.

"It's alright," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "You're safe. You're with me now. Just let it

out."

And that's all it takes. The dam breaks, and I crumple into him, clinging to his shirt as the tears start to fall.

I can't hold back anymore; it's like every single ounce of tension, fear, and humiliation has been building up all day, and now it's pouring out in waves that won't stop. My mother's betrayal, Ryan freezing the account, leaving me stranded without a penny... every raw nerve and bruised feeling comes rushing out, and all I can do is sob against Luke's chest, letting it all out.

After a while, I realize his shirt is soaked with my tears and I pull back, embarrassed, wiping my face. "I'm sorry... I ruined your shirt."

"Don't worry about it." He glances down. "It's just a shirt."

I give him a weak smile, and he picks up the overnight bag sitting on the floor beside me. He takes my

CHAPTER 027 Safety First

hand afterwards, guiding me toward the car.

After opening the passenger door and helping me in, he turns around, getting into the driver's seat. But he doesn't start the car. Instead, he's glancing sideways at me.

"Is something wrong?" I say.

He doesn't reply. He leans in close, reaching across me, and my heart pounds so loud I'm certain he can hear it. And before I know it, he's fixing my seatbelt. He fumbles with the belt, pulling it across me, clicking it into place with a snap.

I don't think I remember how to breathe.

After he's done with the seatbelt, he doesn't immediately move away. He's still close-close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek.

"Safety first," he says. "Who knows? I might crash the car in anger, and I don't want you to bump your head."

I clear my throat, trying to shake the tension, and say, "In that case, should I drive? I'm not really in the mood to meet God tonight."

He pulls back, laughing. The sound is so deep and rich, and I can't help but smile too.

He puts on his own seatbelt, still chuckling, and starts the car, shooting me a sideways glance as he shifts into drive.

"Hell no. I like you very much, Julie. Very, very much. But nobody touches my car except me. Why don't you just sit back, relax like the princess you are, and if I crash, at least we'll be in Hell together."

He eases his grip on the wheel, and the car surges forward, its engine purring like it has a mind of its own.

"You were serious about crashing, weren't you?" I say, half-amused, half-nervous, as he zooms through the streets.

"Told you," he says. "Better say your prayers."

A laugh bubbles out of me. I glance over at him as he drives, watching his profile in the dim light, the way his jaw tenses and relaxes, his hands strong and sure on the wheel. Even at this mad speed, I feel safe with him. Like he's the only solid thing in this mess of a day.

I lean back, letting my shoulders relax. There's something comforting in the silence between us, the kind of quiet that feels shared rather than awkward. He just drives, steady and calm, without asking questions or making demands. Right now, that feels like everything. I find myself turning sideways to watch him again, taking in the way he looks at the road, his focus. He smiles like he knows I'm staring.

"What?" he asks.

I quickly look away. "Nothing."

"That's a lie," he says, laughing a little. "You've been staring at me for at least a full minute."

I glance back at him, feeling a little braver. "I was just thinking," I say, pausing as I find the words. "You're....... nice. Like, genuinely nice. That's rare."

CHAPTER 027: Safety First

He's quiet for a second, then lets out a low chuckle, almost like he's amused. "Don't let the face fool you," he says. "I'm a terrible person, Julie. You have no idea. "Oh, I know, Lucas," I say, laughing. "I know."

He grins and looks back at the road, but his hand tightens on the wheel, like there's more he's not saying. As we drive, his words echo in my mind, simple but somehow charged.

I like you very much, Julie. Very, very much.

And God help me, I think I like him too.

CHAPTER 028: Don't Know Where To Put It?

We pull up to Luke's place a few minutes later, and I almost forget to breathe.

This isn't just a house. It's a mansion-a literal mansion, all sharp angles, stone walls, and towering windows. The driveway winds through a huge garden, the kind of lush, manicured greenery that feels like something out of a dream. Luke glances over, catching me staring, and smirks. He hops out of the car, strolling around to my side.

"Do you live here alone?" I ask, half whispering.

"Why?" He looks amused. "Does it seem lonely?"

"Lonely? No, just... massive."

He laughs softly. "I like space," he says, and though the answer feels simple, I get the sense there's more

to it.

"I can see that," I say.

He extends his arm dramatically. "Welcome to my castle, Julie. Mi casa es tu casa."

The air is cool, and the scent of jasmine drifts over us as we head up the stone steps. I glance around, taking in the enormous front door and stone pillars. This place feels almost enchanted.

Inside, it's even more impressive. We enter a grand hall, and I can't help but stare. A chandelier the size of a small car dangles from a ceiling so high that it's almost painful to look at. Everything here is as elegant as it is intimidating. Just then, a voice echoes through the room.

"Lucas! You're finally home! I've told you, you work too damn much!"

I look over and see an elderly man in a wheelchair by the fireplace, watching us.

Luke sighs, pushing a hand through his hair, then crosses his arms. "And I've told you countless times not to wait up for me, old man. I'm not your wife."

"True enough," the man says, grinning. "She had more hair and a lot less attitude." He shifts in his chair. This house is eerie as hell at night."

"You wouldn't have to deal with it if you stayed at the group home like I suggested," Luke counters.

The old man huffs, waving a hand dismissively. "Ghosts would be better than being surrounded by the near-dead any day."

I can't help it, I chuckle. This causes the old man's eyes fall on me, and I suddenly feel as though I've made some terrible mistake. His eyes narrow, shifting from a look of surprise to something sharper, as he takes a slow tour of me from head to toe.

I shift, glancing to Luke, who steps closer, clearing his throat. "Julie, meet the terror of this household- my grandfather, Javier Martinez, who doesn't let me live in peace." He nods in the old man's direction." Come over and say hi, Julie." As if I have much of a choice. The old man's gaze is as intense as a searchlight, sweeping over every inch

CHAPTER 028: Don't Know Where To Put It?

of me, leaving no detail unchecked. I walk forward, feeling the weight of that scrutiny like a physical touch, awkwardly clearing my throat as I say, "Hi."

Nothing. He just stares, his expression unreadable, unt I glance toward Luke, feeling uncomfortable.

"Lucas, you got yourself a girlfriend?" Javier finally says.

Luke's face reddens, his jaw clenching slightly as he stammers, "Julie and I-we're friends."

The old man chuckles, unconvinced. "Friends, huh?" He taps his fingers on the arm of the wheelchair and squints at me. "Come closer, Julie. I can't see you clearly from here."

I inch forward, and he waves me on. "Closer. Closer. And... down a little, too."

I can hear Luke muttering something behind me that sounds like, "When did you develop shortsightedness?"

Finally, I'm crouching in front of the old man, face-to-face with his appraising eyes. He takes a long sniff, leaning forward. Then, without warning, he grabs my arm, pulling me closer.

"Nice fragrance," he says.

I blink, shocked and speechless. Before I can process any of it, Luke steps forward, tugging me away from his grandfather. "Honestly, have some self-respect," he says to Javier. "Where are your manners?"

But his grandfather is unbothered, chuckling even. "You millennials are so touchy these days. No fun. I was just getting to know your 'friend' here." He raises an eyebrow, shifting his gaze back to Luke. "So, have you put a baby in her yet?" ""No!" Luke and I both blurt out in unison, startled.

The old man frowns, looking disappointed. "Why? Don't know where to put it?"

Luke crouches down in front of him, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. "Look, Julie's had a rough day. Could you try not to make it worse?"

"What happened to her?" Javier asks. "Did she get robbed?"

Funny enough, that sounds exactly like what happened.

But Luke says, "She's going through a separation from her husband."

The old man's eyebrows shoot up, and he clucks his tongue. "Lucas, you're dating a married woman?" He shakes his head. "Why do you always pick the ones that'll break your heart?"

Luke groans, throwing his hands over his face.

I raise my hand, unable to hide my amusement. "I'm right here," I say, laughing. "For the record, it's a divorce, not a separation."

Luke turns around, startled. "Really?"

I nod. "Really."

His grandfather leans back, regarding me with a sigh. "Listen, Lucas, this is a bad idea. I'm telling you, ninety percent of women who leave their husbands go right back to them. Have you forgotten about your ex-wife, what she did to you?" 2/4

CHAPTER 028 Don't Know Where To Put if?

Luke's face flushes with embarrassment as he gets to his feet, shooting me an apologetic look. "Julie, I'm so sorry. Can you wait in the hallway for just a minute?" He gestures to a nearby hallway, his eyes pleading.

I nod, biting back an uncomfortable sigh as I walk to the hall, still able to hear their heated exchange echoing faintly behind me. It's crazy because, right up until this moment, I knew nothing about Luke. I'd never even bothered to ask about him, about his past, about his present life. I'd just been so focused on Ryan and his mistress. Now, it seems Luke had a wife who supposedly broke his heart, and he has a tart- mouthed grandfather who lives with him.

"If you can't behave yourself in front of my guest," I hear Luke say, "I'll have you back at that group home so you can be with your fellow 'near dead."

I inch forward a little bit, eavesdropping.

There's a pause. And then I hear the low, dry rasp of his grandfather's laugh. "Oh my God, you're in love with her, aren't you?"

Silence. I can practically feel the tension in that heavy pause.

Finally, Luke says, "Whether I am or not is none of your business. If she tears my heart to shreds, that's also none of your business." His voice is sharp. "It's my heart, after all. And if you want to keep living here, you'll put on a smile and act like a human being for once." There's a long silence, then a defeated sigh from Javier. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Footsteps echo toward me down the hall, and I straighten instinctively, heart beating just a little faster, pretending I haven't just eavesdropped on what feels like a very personal conversation. I'm still trying to fix my expression into something neutral when Luke's tall figure appears around the corner.

He stops when he sees me, his face falling just a little. "I'm so sorry about that. Javier...well, he has a lot of PTSD and paranoia. Years in service left him-"

"Oh, don't worry about it." I wave his apology away. "Have you met my family? I've been around worse." I grin. "Besides, he's...well, he's kind of sweet. And pretty funny."

Luke groans, rolling his eyes. "Do you want him? Because you're welcome to have him. Free of charge."

I laugh, feeling the earlier tension melting away.

He gestures down the hall. "Come on, let me show you where you'll be staying."

I fall into step beside him, glancing at the old family photos lining the walls. Some are faded, barely recognizable, others surprisingly well preserved. They're mostly black and white, featuring people with hard-set eyes and stern, proud expressions, staring into the camera. As we pass a particularly large painting of a stoic, mustached man, Luke clears his throat. "So...today, huh?" He glances sideways at me. "That's when you decided to divorce Ryan?"

"Today," I reply. I'm surprised by the lightness in my chest. I didn't realize until this moment just how heavy that decision had been weighing on me. "I guess I'd had enough of his games. Luke's lips curl up in a quiet smile. There's a warmth in his gaze that I feel even before I look at him. "Good. I'm happy for you. This calls for a celebration. How about champagne?" 3/4

CHAPTER 028: Don't Know Where To Put It?

"Yes, please," I say. "I need that, and I also need a very good lawyer. I mean to take Ryan down."

CHAPTER 029: The Bargain

Ryan O'Brien~~

Ryan O'Brien stares down at the stack of papers in his hands, the ones just handed to him by a server.

TO: RYAN O'BRIEN

YOU ARE HEREBY SUMMONED to answer the Complaint in this action, which is brought to obtain a divorce, and to appear before the Ravenswood District Court of the State of New York, Greenwood County, within twenty (20) days after service of this Summons upon you."

Complaint:

"PARTIES:

Plaintiff: JULIE JENKINS (currently known as JULIE O'BRIEN)

Defendant: RYAN O'BRIEN

GROUND FOR DIVORCE:

Adultery (Domestic Relations Law § 170(1))

The world blurs for a second. A divorce Summon?

He reads it again, slower this time, each word grating against his mind, and his grip tightens on the paper. Somewhere in the background, he hears a faint hum. It's Emily. She's hovering beside him with her hand

on the back of his chair.

"How did she manage that so quickly?" Emily asks. She doesn't sound unhappy about it. In fact, Ryan could swear there's a hint of amusement in her voice.

Ryan doesn't answer. He can't. He's barely breathing, each word still sinking its sharp little claws into his brain. The room feels like it's closing in on him; he forces himself to focus on the summons, but all he can see is the stark finality of Julie's name.

He hears a cough. The server, still waiting, his hand stretched out as he points to the line marked for Ryan's signature. "Mr. O'Brien," the server says. "You'll need to sign here to acknowledge receipt."

Ryan's hands tremble as he scrawls his name in a jagged, barely legible line. The server thanks him with cool professionalism, nods once to Emily, and exits, leaving the two of them alone.

As the door clicks shut, Emily lets out a breath. Her fingers trace the back of Ryan's chair as she leans closer. "Wow," she says. "Adultery. Julie's been busy. It's not even been a day since she left the house. How in the world did she pull this off?" Ryan forces himself to swallow, barely managing to control his breathing.

"Are you alright?" Emily asks.

""Excuse me," Ryan mutters. "I need to be alone."

CHAPTER 029: The Bargain

Emily hésitates, confusion flashing across her face, but finally nods and steps back, letting him go. He waits until the door closes behind her. Then, like a reflex, he snatches his phone from his desk and dials Julie's number.

It rings once. Then twice. And again.

Nothing. Her voicemail clicks on.

He hangs up and calls again. His hands are shaking as he paces the room, his breaths shallow. Pick up. Just pick up. But there's no answer. Only that infuriating beep that signals her voicemail.

A growl escapes his throat, and in a rage, he hurls the phone across the room. It collides with the wall, shattering, pieces clattering to the ground.

He stands there, breathless, staring at the remnants of his phone on the floor. The divorce summons sits on his desk, waiting, haunting him.

This can't be. He won't let this happen. He grabs his coat and storms out of the office. Emily looks up from her desk as she sees him approaching. "Call and find out where they're keeping Elaine Jenkins, Julie's mother," he says.

Emily's eyes widen. "Is there a problem?"

"Just do it."

She fumbles for her phone, pressing it to her ear as she dials, giving him a look that's part concern, part confusion as she speaks to someone on the other end,

After a short exchange, Emily scribbles an address on a notepad and hands it to him, hesitating just a moment before letting go. He grabs the paper, glancing down at the address of the detention center. His mother-in-law's current residence.

Just before he leaves, he turns back to Emily. "I'll need a new phone by the time I get back."

Ryan's in an office at the detention center, eyes fixed on the door. He's spent the last hour shifting in his seat, waiting impatiently for Elaine to be brought to him.

The door creaks, and finally, Elaine Jenkins enters, shackles and all, with a guard who, after a pointed glare, leaves them alone in the room.

Elaine settles into her chair across from him, brows raised. "What the hell took you so long, Ryan? I asked for a lawyer yesterday, and it's been hours. My arraignment hearing's in a couple hours, and I don't have a damn lawyer. Do you actually want me to go to prison? It's your fault I'm here in the first place. Why aren't you doing anything about it?"

Ryan's jaw ticks. He tries to clamp down on it, keep it steady. But it's hard not to explode. "You tried to throw my wife off a bridge, Elaine. What the hell is wrong with you?" He spits the words out, low and hard. "All I asked was for you to talk to her. Talk. Maybe make her rethink things, drop that boyfriend of hers. But you decided to-what? Shove her off a fucking bridge?"

"I wasn't going to push her, Ryan. Jesus, give me some credit. If I wanted her dead, there are much easier ways to go about it. I just wanted to shake her up a little, get her to come to her senses. Where the hell is

CHAPTER 029: The Bargain

my lawyer?"

He stares at her, biting down a furious retort. "Julie asked me not to send one."

"Are you serious right now? You were the one who sent me, remember?"

"I'm not going to accept that," he hisses, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Don't try to make me your accomplice in this mess."

"Sure you are."

"I'm not," he snaps, fighting to keep his voice down, looking around to make sure no guards are eavesdropping. "And keep your voice down."

She rolls her eyes, leaning forward. "If you're not here with my lawyer, then why are you here, Ryan?"

He takes a deep breath, running a hand over his face, as if it could somehow wipe away the mess he's in." Julie took some things from the house last night," he says, almost to himself, his voice low and pained." And left."

Elaine's eyes narrow, but she says nothing.

"This morning," he continues, "she served me divorce papers. On grounds of adultery. And it's your fault." He points at her. "We were still okay before you tried to throw her off a bridge."

Her eyebrow arches. "How is it my fault you cheated, Ryan?"

"Well," he says, "I asked her to drop the charges against you, and she... she exploded."

For a split second, something flickers in Elaine's eyes, maybe guilt or some faint shadow of sympathy." You did?" she says, giving him a small, almost affectionate smile. "That's... oddly thoughtful of you. But I don't see how any of this is my business."

Ryan clenches his fists, words spilling out as he fights to stay calm. "It's your business because you have to fix it, Elaine. I don't want a divorce. Besides the scandal it would cause with the press and my family, I don't want Julie to leave me. That's the reason I asked you to talk to her in the first place! But you did the exact opposite. So do whatever you can to fix this."

Elaine tilts her head, watching him. "Well, well. You really do love her, don't you?" She pauses, eyes narrowing. "I know I messed up with the whole bridge thing, but I was doing it for you. I just wanted her to see reason. I didn't know she had it in her to actually file for divorce. I'm almost... impressed.

"Really?" he says. "That's what you have to say to me?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Ryan, but I'm in prison."

"You're in a holding cell, Elaine. Not prison."

"

She glares at him. "What difference does it make? The key point is, I'm locked up, and you're sitting here whining about your marriage."

He leans forward, fists on the table. "What do you expect me to do about you being locked up?"

Elaine considers him, tapping her finger against her lips. "Like I said, my arraignment is later today. Say you get me out of here before the end of the day, I'll see about helping you get Julie back."

Ryan stares at her, mouth slightly open. "You're here for a possible assault charge... maybe even attempted murder. You think I can just waltz you out of the courtroom after the arraignment?" She waits a beat, letting the silence settle between them before she leans in, voice cool and steady. "Do you want your wife back or not?"

CHAPTER 030: State Of New York Versus Elaine Jenkins

Ryan lets out a shaky breath. "So this is what it comes down to? Blackmail?"

"Call it what you want," Elaine says. "But yes, Ryan. Blackmail. You want Julie back? You want your life back? You get me out of here. Simple as that."

He runs a hand through his hair, barely able to look at her. He doesn't want to do this. The very idea makes him sick to his stomach. But what choice does he have? Julie is slipping through his fingers, and with her goes everything-his reputation, his family's respect, his carefully crafted life.

"Fine," he says. "I'll talk to my lawyer. If, by some miracle, he gets you out, you're going to fix it. You're going to make Julie see that this divorce is a mistake."

Elaine's smile is wide. "Of course," she purrs, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. "I'll do whatever it takes, darling. I'm sure Julie and I will have a lovely little chat."

He can feel bile rising in his throat. He stands, shoving his chair back, unable to stay in the room with her any longer. He turns without another word, pushing the door open, feeling her gaze sear into his back as he leaves.

And he knows, as the cold air of the detention center hallway hits him, that he's already in too deep.

it's three hours past noon, ten minutes until Elaine's arraignment, and still no sign of Ben. Ryan paces outside the courthouse, checking the driveway for the hundredth time. If he didn't know Ben better, he'd think he'd been ghosted. This isn't how their last-minute arrangement was supposed to work.

"Where the hell is he?" Ryan mutters under his breath, catching a glare from a passing officer. He ignores it, glancing down the street. And finally-finally-Ben's sleek black sedan glides around the corner, pulling up with an unhurried ease that grates on Ryan's nerves. As Ben steps out, all casual confidence in his tailored suit, Ryan storms over. "Where were you? I thought you'd stood me up!"

Ben closes his car door, locks it, then gives Ryan a measured look. "Why are you hassling me, Ryan? Have I ever disappointed you?"

"Not yet, but you were cutting it close today. If you didn't want to take the case, you could have just said

it."

Ben smooths a nonexistent wrinkle in his jacket. "If I didn't want the case, I wouldn't be here. I was just doing some underground checks on the defendant. Something substantial enough to make the judge. take pity on her." Ryan scoffs. Pity? If that's the angle Ben is aiming at, they're all screwed. The judge would take one look at Elaine and know that's all horseshit.

"So," Ryan says, "did you find anything?"

"Yes. One of those things is that the defendant is your mother-in-law." He pauses, watching Ryan's face for a reaction. "I guess you skipped that part when you called."

Ryan shifts uncomfortably. "Maybe... I thought it'd go smoother if I left out the details."

CHAPTER 030: State Of New York Versus Elaine Jenkins

"That's not even the craziest part. The complainant? That's your wife?"

"It's a long story."

Ben holds up his hand. "Let me get this straight. Your mother-in-law tried to throw your wife off a bridge, and here you are trying to get her out on bail because..

Ryan glances around before saying, "I need her help to fix a certain problem. Julie left me. I don't know how she did it, but between yesterday night and today, she managed to obtain a divorce summon. I've been served."

Ben stares at Ryan, eyes wide. "Tell me you're joking."

"Look, I know it sounds messy. But you don't understand. Julie won't even talk to me. I'm out of options, and if I don't do something, she's gone for good. Elaine's my last chance."

"So just to clarify once more: your mother-in-law-who nearly threw your wife off a bridge-gets to play peacemaker here? And you're hoping this same woman can talk your wife into staying with the guy who sent her killer in the first place? Tell me I'm getting this wrong." "Why does everyone keep blaming me?" Ryan's voice rises. "It wasn't my command. Elaine took things too far!"

Ben raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "And yet, here you are, still defending her. Ryan, she's a menace. No judge is going to buy whatever sob story we try to sell about this woman."

Ryan's jaw clenches. "Can you get her out or not?"

"It was never a question about my ability, Ryan. It's about how crazy this is. How about you let Elaine go to jail and then go hunt down your wife wherever she is and tell her you're sorry? It's what adults do."

Ryan presses his lips together, avoiding Ben's gaze. He can still picture Julie's face as she stormed out last night, her eyes cold and unforgiving. He doubts any apology would do the trick.

"I'll pay you double your rate," Ryan says. "Is that what you want?"

Ben's eyes narrow, but he doesn't miss a beat. "Triple."

"Done."

They shake on it.

At 3:15 PM, the court rises.

The judge enters, an older man with sharp eyes that suggests he's seen it all. He settles behind the bench and glances down at his notes. "State of New York versus Elaine Jenkins," the judge intones. "Charges of assault and attempted murder. Defense, present your client." Ben rises, buttoning his suit jacket.

"Your Honor, the defense argues that the charges against Mrs. Jenkins are, to put it bluntly, an exaggerated misinterpretation of events."

CHAPTER 030: State of New York Versus Elaine Jenkins

The judge raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

"Mrs. Jenkins has a history of mental health challenges. She's been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and as her attending physician has verified, she was not on her medication at the time of the incident. What we are looking at, Your Honor, is not premeditated violence but rather an unfortunate outburst from a woman suffering from an untreated illness."

Ryan blinks, turning to Ben in surprise. Bipolar disorder? Sure, he's always known Elaine is... special, a little intense, but an actual diagnosis? And bipolar? It's like seeing her for the first time through a different lens. It explains a lot. Yet he can't quite silence the voice in his head saying this sounds a little too convenient.

"And what evidence do you have of this supposed diagnosis?" the judge asks.

Ben doesn't flinch. "Your Honor, we have a written statement from Dr. Cohn, Mrs. Jenkins's attending psychiatrist. As you can see here-" Ben holds up the document, approaches the bench, and passes it to the clerk, who hands it up to the judge. "This is not a case of cold-blooded assault but rather an episode of unfortunate mental destabilization."

Ryan's heart pounds now. He thought Ben was just here to play on the judge's sympathies, maybe go for a generic plea. But this? This is the kind of thing that could actually work.

"Mrs. Jenkins's behavior, though erratic," Ben continues, "is not an uncommon presentation in those

suffering from untreated bipolar disorder. We are not here to say she's without fault, Your Honor, only to argue that her actions, however misguided, were not the deliberate acts of a sound mind. Therefore, we request bail while she awaits trial, in the hopes that she can seek treatment." "Bipolar disorder, Mr. Wallace?" The prosecutor rises. "This is an awfully convenient diagnosis, don't you

think?"

Ben tums to him, his face calm. "Are you suggesting, sir, that mental illness is convenient? Or are you merely questioning the authority of her doctor?"

"I'm questioning the timing of this revelation, that's all,

As the argument between Ben and the prosecutor drags on, Ryan can barely keep track. Their words blur together, voices rising and falling around him, but he's somewhere else-lost in his own doubts. Am I really doing this? The thought circles through his mind, louder than anything in the room. Am I actually helping her get out? He snaps back to attention when the judge says, "Bail is set at twenty thousand dollars, to be released to a third-party custodian."

A murmur ripples through the courtroom, but Ryan barely registers it. Twenty grand? Nothing he can't cover. But watching Elaine, now uncuffed, rise with that triumphant gleam in her eye, he's struck by the realization that he may have unleashed something unstoppable. As Elaine steps toward him, she smiles. "Well, well, Ryan," she says. "Guess I owe you one."

"You're going to fix this. Remember our deal."

She raises an eyebrow. "Don't worry, darling. I always honor my deals."