<b>Chapter </b><b>7 </b>


    Luke didn’t show up to court that day.


    An hourter, I walked out with the divorce decree and drove back to the penthouse.


    Thepany had some major deals brewing, so news of the divorce would stay under wraps for now.


    When I got home, there was an uninvited guest sitting in my living room.


    I frowned and called security. The guard exined sheepishly, “She had Mr. Harper’s ess card…”


    Ruby sat up straight and looked me in the eye. “I’m here for that enamel jewelry piece Luke bought at auctionst time.”


    She ran her hand over the leather sofa beneath her. “He said it was for me, but you’ve been hoarding it.”


    This penthouse was in my name. The day I decided on divorce, I’d already thrown out all of Luke’s stuff. The expensive items didn’t get trashed–probably sent to his ce in the Hamptons.


    I didn’t waste words on her. “Get out.”


    “Leah.” She dropped the formalities.


    “We’re both women here. I know exactly what you’re thinking. Refusing to divorce for years, then suddenly filing–you’re just ying hard to get, hoping your husband wille crawling back. Nobody’s buying it.”


    I called out “Grace!” and soon someone came downstairs.


    I nced at her, and her eyes lit up. She dropped her cleaning rag and immediately grabbed Ruby, dragging her toward the door.


    “Ahh–you psycho!”


    Both Grace and Linda were Harper family veterans, originally brought over by Luke’s mother from her own family.


    Linda was the calm, clever one. Grace was the enforcer. Together, they were his mother’s right and left hands.


    Back when Luke’s mother dealt with all those mistresses, Grace’s hands had wed up plenty of homewrecker faces.


    When I joined the Harper family, his mother assigned Grace to me.


    Too bad I never bothered with the drama, so Grace hadn’t had much to do these past few years. Today I’d let her relive her glory days.


    From outside came Grace’s booming voice tearing into her.


    “You shameless little slut! Chasing after married men at your age–even when this city was full of kept women, none of them were stupid enough to show up at the wife’s house. Your parents did a real shit job raising you…”


    English was limiting her creativity, so she switched to rapid–fire Spanish, every word razor sharp. Maybe I’d have her give Luke the same treatment someday.


    Ruby had built <b>up </b>a decent online following with a carefully crafted persona.


    In her blog posts, she was the struggling girl from the wrong side of the tracks who caught the eye of a powerful, wealthy man.


    Her mystery boyfriend loved her deeply–he was her savior, her lover, lifting her up from nothing.


    Clueless followers ate it up. “Girl, you must be amazing for someone to love you like that.”


    She soaked up everypliment. “He’s teaching me about the world, about people and society, so that even if we don’tst forever, I’ll be able to take care of myself.”


    Spinning this fairy tale of a white knight and poor girl, like she was the real heroine of some romance novel.