Tristan turned to look at her.
The exact moment his eyes met hers, a single tear broke free and landed directly on the back of his hand.
She didn't even realize it. She was so wired with tension she didn't even know she was crying in front of him.
When he didn't answer for a long time, she braced herself to go down swinging. But then, he spoke. "Everything has a price. Since you keep bringing this up over and over, you're going to have to show me your sincerity."
She froze.
She completely understood the implication behind his words.
Recovering quickly, she said,
"Okay. But can I just deliver one meal a day? I still have my actual job to do, and it means a lot to me. I don't want to end up with absolutely nothing. I want to make myself better. As for the equity, you can have your lawyers draft the transfer papers and a new prenup right now. Take out the shares and the two million 'salary'. I'll sign it all... thank you."
He looked away, placing his hands back on the steering wheel. The tear on his skin slid slowly down his hand. "No need. That kind of loose change doesn't even register on my radar."
He didn't look at her again. "Get out. Rest well. Someone will contact you tomorrow."
She nodded. Right before closing the door, she repeated with utmost sincerity, "Thank you, Mr. Forrester."
He cast one last glance at her red, tear-filled eyes.
The car fell dead silent. He dialed his assistant's number and ordered, "Look into why my wife is so desperate to go abroad."
As soon as the assistant agreed, Tristan changed his mind. "Forget it. Don't bother."
Given the transactional nature of their relationship, whatever she was planning or wanted was none of his business, and he frankly had no interest in digging into it.

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