Lucky. That’s what that lawyer bastard had called me.
I realized dully that Evan had insisted upon providing for me, even in the case of me filing for divorce, because he’d known he’d been using me. He’d insisted upon the clause in the prenuptial agreement providing for me because he’d known this day would come.
His thoughtfulness in that regard only highlighted his premeditation. His deliberate cruelty.
“I don’t want to ruin your life.”
Pain seized my whole body. I clenched my eyelids shut and braced myself against it. It tore through me like fire anyway.
“But you have, Evan.”
I sat there for I don’t know how long, my muscles clenched tight as I tried to fight off the pain and anger and rising panic.
Finally, I stood and walked over to the closet. I found my large suitcase. Had it really only been a month or so since I’d stored it away there?
It didn’t matter. I had to get out of here. It was like I’d become aware that the house exuded some kind of foul, noxious gas. How had I not realized I’d been breathing it, slowly poisoning myself all along?
Evan had said he would return this evening. I had to get out of there as soon as possible. The thought of seeing him made my mind go blank with rage.
Why the hell did you make me fall in love with you? Was that really necessary to your plan, you fucking, heartless bastard?
I threw my suitcase on the bed so hard, it bounced up several inches. I unzipped the case and started throwing handfuls of clothing straight from the bureau drawers into it. In my fury, I acc
identally shoved the Tsang sculpture of the lovers kissing, making it scoot several inches all along the bureau.
“It’s my wedding gift to you. Do you like it?”
Rage clamped down on me. I dropped the clothing, picked up the priceless porcelain in both hands, and hurled it against the wall. It hit with the impact of a small explosion.
“Anna, what the hell are you doing?”
I turned around to see Evan standing just inside the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Evan’s gaze appeared startled and sharp on me. Whiskers darkened his jaw. The appeal of him, even under these circumstances, horrified me.
“What are you doing home so early?” I asked.
“I was worried after we talked this morning. Rightfully so, I’d say.”
He entered the room, long legs motoring toward me.
“What’s happening?” he asked tensely, his gaze landing on the shattered pieces of sculpture. He grabbed me by the upper arms. I made a muted sound of furious misery and jerked out of his hold.
“Anna? Tell me what’s happened,” he demanded.
My throat burned. I was so angry—so hurt—I didn’t have the energy or desire to try to spell it all out for him. I just reached in my back pocket and extricated my phone.
I held up the image of Elizabeth Madaster.
His expression froze, altered somehow. The light didn’t fade from his eyes. It went out like a snuffed candle.
“Valeria told me just now she took you to Carson City. She said you were upset, but she wouldn’t say why. You saw this at the library?” he asked, his voice infuriatingly calm.
“That’s right,” I said, still holding the incriminating evidence up to his face.
“You don’t have to keep showing me the picture, Anna. I know what Elizabeth looks like.”