“If she makes me leave tomorrow,” Naomi whispered, eyes on the floor, “I have some money saved. Not much. Enough for a small room. You and the boys could come with me.”
Marcus stared at her, stunned.
Marcus felt something break open in his chest.
This woman had nothing to gain.
No inheritance. No status. No security.
Only hardship.
And she offered it anyway.
3. The Lie Tightens
Marcus lay awake long after the mansion went silent.
Restraint was heavier than pretending. Every instinct screamed to stand up, to end the lie, to watch Cassandra’s face collapse when she realized the man she’d humiliated was never powerless at all.
But Elliot’s warning echoed in his mind.
So Marcus stayed still.
When Cassandra returned later that night, her tone had shifted—not softer, but sharper, more calculating. She spoke of paperwork, of notaries arriving in the morning, of doing “what’s best for everyone.”
She didn’t look at the children.
She didn’t acknowledge Naomi.
Her eyes were fixed on the future she thought she was about to steal.
Naomi hovered close, quiet as a shadow, following every instruction Cassandra barked. Marcus realized then that Naomi wasn’t submitting.
She was enduring.
Marcus forced his voice to crack. “If she leaves,” he murmured, eyes downcast, “I won’t sign.”
The room froze.
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