His eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy. He leaned forward, practically salivating.

“Good girl. You’re making the right choice.”

I bent over the desk. I didn’t hesitate. I signed my name, “Meredith A. Blackwood,” with a flourish on the bottom of the last page. The ink was dark and permanent.

“There,” I said, capping the pen and setting it down with a deliberate click.

Stuart snatched the papers up instantly, scanning the signature as if checking for a trick. Finally, he breathed out, a look of pure triumph washing over his face.

“See? Was that so hard?”

“No,” I said.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my house keys. I dropped them onto the mahogany desk. They landed with a heavy thud. Then I reached for my left hand. I slid the platinum band off my finger—the ring I had bought myself because his card was maxed out at the time—and placed it next to the keys.