My father taught me that, too, at a dinner table twenty years ago.
Integrity over zeros. And patience over pride.
Chapter 3: The Farm in Kentucky
The money would have been enough to free me.
But on what Roman intended to be his final visit, he handed me something far bigger than fr*ud, because he couldn’t resist gloating.
He arrived bragging about the life he and Sienna would live in Dubai.
He was disappointed that I didn’t cry.
So he leaned closer and said a name I’d heard maybe twice in our marriage: his first wife, Marissa Thorne.
He’d always told me Marissa left him to start over overseas, five years ago.
That afternoon, the story changed.
“Marissa found something she shouldn’t have,” he whispered. “Some old financial records of mine. We had an argument at my family’s farm in Kentucky. After that, nobody ever saw her again.” He smiled. “Let’s just say that old farm has been keeping a secret for five years.”
