"That hundred thousand dollars—Cecilia, Henry, and Mira transferred it to me after they pushed me into the pool…"
"This fifty thousand… Mira wired it to me after she slapped me at the office…"
"And the ten thousand? He got drunk and called me to pick him up from the club. I missed my shift because of it, so he gave me that as compensation…"
Alicia could recall the reason behind every single payment.
She was not a kept woman.
Vincent had deceived her. When she was nineteen, he'd pretended it was love.
"He really did say it was love," Alicia tried to explain, though it was clear she wasn't talking to Tyrone—she was trying to convince herself.
Vincent's words to the press… They'd become the final straw, the weight that broke her spirit.
"I was not some mistress…"
Alicia sobbed, repeating her explanation about her relationship with Vincent over and over.
But really, she was only talking to herself.
"Don't justify yourself. Don't fall into their trap." Tyrone tightened his hold on Alicia's arm. "Alicia, if you want to stand your ground, you can't let yourself be shaken by what others say or do. This is exactly what they want: to manipulate public opinion, to break you down, to make me give up on you."
Tyrone knew exactly why Vincent was doing this.
By smearing Alicia's name, he could get the Lynch family to abandon her completely.
Once that happened, Alicia would be isolated and powerless—no longer a threat.
They wanted to pressure her into dropping the case, to give up on what happened four years ago, to let Mira, Henry, and Cecilia off without consequence. It would be all too easy.
"Anyone else can give up on you." Tyrone took Alicia's wrist and led her into the study. He opened the safe and took out their two marriage certificates. "But you can't give up on yourself, and I won't give up on you either. We're legally married—nothing to do with a prenup. I'm your husband."
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