I Told You To Run But You Didn't (Georgia) novel Chapter 3

Georgia’s POV

After I signed, Fatima leaned forward, her eyes like chips of ice. "There is a thirty-day waiting period. The money will be transferred on the day the divorce is finalized, and only if you behave yourself. Don't let my son know about this deal. Am I clear?"

So, she wanted me to play the part of the dutiful wife for one more month while she managed her son like a puppet. Pathetic.

I gave her a bright, dismissive smile. "Crystal clear."

I walked out before she could utter another word, leaving her alone in her monument to control. The moment the elevator doors closed, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my best friend, Patricia: Code Red. Retail therapy required, ASAP.

Two hours later, surrounded by shopping bags from every designer on the block, I told her everything over champagne.

Patricia slammed her glass on the table, drawing stares. "It's about damn time!" she roared, her loyalty as fierce as ever. "You're divorcing him, and his mother is paying you for it? This is the best day of my life!"

She leaned in closer, pulling out her phone. "You have no idea, G. You've been so buried in his world, you haven't seen the news." She swiped through several screens and then pushed the phone across the table.

It was a gallery of tabloid photos: Lucas and Kiara leaving a hotel, Lucas with his arm around her at a gala, Kiara getting into his car. The headlines were brutal.

"They don't even hide it," Patricia said, her voice laced with contempt. "He's the city's most famous cheater, and she's the homewrecker in designer clothes. They're a public disgrace."

"Well, the public doesn't know he's married to me," I said, sipping my champagne. "Only his inner circle knows the truth." I nodded my head towards the restaurant entrance. "And speaking of the clowns, the circus is arriving."

Lucas walked in with Kiara draped on his arm. His sycophants, including his best friend Peter, trailed behind them. They settled at a large, reserved table nearby, their laughter loud and obnoxious.

One of them, a director at Lucas’s company, leaned in. "So, Lucas, when are you finally marrying Kiara? Make sure you invite us to the wedding!"

Peter, who knew the truth, scoffed loud enough for half the restaurant to hear. "I reckon it won't be long! What's so special about Georgia, anyway? She's a nobody from a diploma mill. If it weren't for Lucas taking her in, she'd be on the street. Yet she has the audacity to call herself Mrs. Sterling!"

Patricia’s knuckles were white around her champagne flute. "That's it. I'm going over there."

I put a calm hand on her arm, stopping her. The insults didn't even sting anymore. They were just noise. "No," I said, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across my face. "Let me."

With the grace of a woman who had nothing left to lose, I rose from my seat. I walked over to their table, the sound of my heels a soft, deliberate rhythm on the floor. They all looked up, their laughter dying in their throats as they saw me.

I leaned in slightly, my smile never swaying. "I overheard you talking about a wedding reception," I said, my voice as sweet as poison. "Why wait? You should have it right now."

Lucas shot to his feet, trying to take control. "Gia—"

I cut him off with a cold look. "Don't. Let's not forget you're the one who begged me to marry you. I never asked for this."

Kiara’s smile was a tight, ugly thing. "This is a restaurant, not a kennel, Georgia. Stop barking."

"You're right," I said, my voice dangerously sweet. "Let's be clear. You two are perfect for each other." I nodded at Lucas. "He's a cheater." Then I smiled directly at Kiara. "And you're a homewrecker."

Peter jumped to her defense. "Who do you think you are? Why would Lucas love a worthless orphan from a diploma mill when he can have a woman like Kiara?"

"Diploma mill?" Patricia finally exploded beside me. "Are you kidding? Georgia is a graduate of the International Defense University!"

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