You Cannot Afford Your Divorced Wife Now

The two bodyguards hesitated, their professional training warring with a primal sense of caution. They stopped a few feet from Gilmer Garrett.

Gilmer didn't even look at them. His eyes were locked on Jeremey. He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored jacket and produced a slim, black business card. He held it out to the head of security.

The guard took it, glanced down, and his posture stiffened. The easy confidence he usually projected vanished, replaced by a look of profound seriousness.

He turned to Jeremey, his voice low and urgent, speaking into his wrist cuff. "Mr. Castillo, my apologies. We have a situation. The guest is Gilmer Garrett, Executive Director of the Garrett Foundation. Please advise."

Jeremey's brow furrowed. Garrett? He'd run a background check on Adeline years ago. She was an orphan from a middle-class family with no connections to speak of.

Hayden was equally stunned. Her own investigation had yielded the same results. A nobody.

Gilmer's voice cut through the tension, cold and sharp. "Castillo. Your personal issues with my sister are your own. Don't involve men who are just doing their job."

My sister.

The words hit Jeremey like a physical blow. He stared at Gilmer, truly seeing him for the first time. The same dark hair, the same determined set of the jaw, the subtle similarity in the high cheekbones.

Rage, hot and blinding, surged through him. It was a complex, ugly thing-fury at being deceived, and a possessive anger that she had a life, a family, that he knew nothing about.

He had wrongly assumed Gilmer was her new lover. The truth was somehow worse.

"Your 'brother'?" Jeremey sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "When did you learn to hide behind a man, Adeline?"

Before Adeline could respond, Gilmer's fist shot out. It was a swift, precise movement, connecting solidly with Jeremey's jaw.

The sound of the impact cracked through the silent ballroom.

Jeremey staggered back, the taste of blood filling his mouth. A collective gasp rippled through the guests.

"Jeremey!" Hayden shrieked, rushing to his side. She glared at Gilmer, her face a mask of outrage. "You hit him! Security!"

But the guards remained frozen, their eyes fixed on Gilmer.

Gilmer flexed his knuckles, his expression unbothered. "That," he said calmly to Jeremey, "was for the way you treated her three years ago."

Adeline placed a restraining hand on her brother's arm. She shook her head slightly. Enough for now.

She turned her cool gaze back to Jeremey, who was wiping a smear of blood from his lip. "I didn't come here to fight, Jeremey. I came to see my daughter."

Her eyes found Isabell again. The little girl's hands were clenched in the nanny's dress, her small face a mixture of fear and a desperate, unspoken longing.

Hayden instantly moved to block Isabell from view, pulling the child behind her skirts. "You will not get near her!" she hissed. "Isabell is my daughter now."

Adeline laughed. It was a soft, humorless sound that sent a chill down Hayden's spine. "Legally, Miss Figueroa, I am her mother. You... are nothing."

The words struck Hayden's most vulnerable point with surgical precision.

The party was in ruins. The guests were no longer pretending to be polite; they were openly staring, soaking in the drama.

Jeremey's composure finally cracked. His eyes, dark with fury, locked onto Adeline and Gilmer.

"This is not over," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Now take your man and get out of my house."

Adeline knew she had accomplished her primary goal: to announce her return in a way that could not be ignored. Pushing further now would be a tactical mistake.

She gave Isabell one last, lingering look. "Mommy will be back for you, sweetheart," she murmured, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Isabell's lips parted, as if to say something, but Hayden quickly placed a hand over the child's mouth, smiling sweetly as if it were a playful gesture.

Adeline's eyes narrowed. She filed the image away.

She and Gilmer turned and walked out, heads held high, leaving a wake of chaos and speculation behind them.

Minutes later, in the quiet sanctuary of a Rolls-Royce, Gilmer opened a first-aid kit.

"Addy," he said, his voice heavy as he dabbed an antiseptic wipe on a scratch on her arm she hadn't even noticed. "Seeing him again... I still can't believe you were willing to challenge the entire Foundation for that man. Was it worth it?"

The words hung in the air, a partial reveal of a much larger secret.

Adeline stared out the window at the blurred city lights. Her expression was unyielding.

"The past doesn't matter, Gil. All that matters now is getting Isabell back."

Gilmer said no more. He put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. The Castillo family had no idea what was coming for them. The Garrett family did not forgive. And they never, ever lost.