Chapter Forty-Four – Cullen
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CULLEN
“ T hey’re late.” Halston checks his watch for the fiftieth time in the last two minutes.
“It’s Celine. What did you expect?”
I pull out my phone to check my text messages.
ME: Want to come over tonight? We can continue our lunchtime activities for dinner ;)
Verity read it over an hour ago and hasn’t responded, which is unlike her. Even when she’s up to her eyes with work, she finds a way to respond with at least an emoji.
Halston lets out a sigh.
“If they’re not here in the next—”
“So sorry. Hope you weren’t waiting too long.” Darcy glides into the office, not sounding the least bit apologetic.
Celine follows, and I pick up on her energy immediately. There’s a satisfied smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. Her eyes are slightly hooded with an air of haughty superiority.
She’s up to something.
And that is never good.
I should’ve fucking known she wouldn’t cave this easily.
My gaze shoots over to Halston, whose jaw tightens an almost imperceptible fraction. He can tell something’s wrong as well.
The women take their seats on the sofa while Halston drops into the armchair beside me. He gestures to the documents on the table, perfectly laid out with an ornate blue and gold Montblanc pen to the side.
Darcy picks up the ten-thousand-dollar pen, tapping it against her chin as she makes a show of looking over the papers.
The silence ticks on.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
Halston stretches his arms over his head and then leaves. He fucking leaves the room, like he is bored.
It feels like ants are crawling over my skin, and I have to fight not to fidget.
I’m not normally like this; I’m someone who can keep their cool through most situations.
But Celine keeps looking at me like the cat who got the canary.
I hate not having the upper hand, and right now, I know I don’t have it.
Whatever they are drawing out, it isn’t good.
Halston reappears with a mug—coffee by the smell of it—and reclaims his seat. Then he pulls out his phone, turns it sideways, and begins streaming some college football game.
“Isn’t that a little rude?” Darcy notes.
“Says the person pretending to read a twenty-page document,” Halston drawls.
“I’m not pretending.”
“It’s the same set of divorce papers I’ve been sending to you for the last three months. Don’t act like you don’t know every word in there by heart.”
“You can never be too careful. I wouldn’t put it past you to switch up a clause last minute.”
Halston lets out a dramatic sigh, shutting off his phone and placing his mug on the table. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tilting his head slightly.
“Stop with the dog and pony show, Ms. Brinks. Let’s hear whatever new demand you have.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t insult me. We both know you aren’t signing those documents as they are. I could smell the sour glee pouring off the two of you the second you walked in.”
Darcy stops leafing through the papers and places the pen back down. She crosses her legs and leans against the back of the sofa, hands clasped in her lap.
“We want eleven percent of the shares in RARE Realty.”
“What?”
Halston glares at my outburst, and I clamp my jaw shut.
I couldn’t help it.
What a fucking ridiculous ask. The shares in RARE are split between me, Alonso, Ryan, and Evrett from when we first started—we each hold twenty-two percent of the total stock other than Ryan, who owns thirty-four percent.
There’s no way I would give her half my shares. That would be absolutely insane.
She doesn’t even need them. All she would do is use them to try and make my life even worse. No way in hell I’ll let that happen.
“We would also like fifty percent of the sale on the Miami apartment.”
“Serious—”
Halston glares at me again, forcing me to bite my tongue.
I bought that place myself.
Yes, technically, we are still married so it would be considered marital property—but that is a thin thread to be tugging on because we sorted most of this shit out ten years ago when Celine and I signed the separation agreement.
The fact that they are looking to make amendments now is a load of bullshit.
At this rate, they would probably demand a portion of the rent I get for my old place in Nashville or the investment property in Orange County.
Where the hell do they get off making these demands?
“Anything else?” Halston gestures his hand half-heartedly for her to continue on with the ridiculous list.
“Mm.” Darcy makes a show of peering up at the ceiling, pretending to think.
Halston was right. The whole thing is a dog and pony show. They are taking us for a ride.
“There are the Nashville and OC properties as well we need to take into account. Then, we should be good.”
I fucking—
My blood boils.
We’ve been negotiating this damn divorce for three months—ever since we reached the ten-year clause in our separation agreement—and not once have they brought up any of this shit.
Sure, Celine had tried to get me to leave the city again, but she hadn’t looked at changing anything else that we’d previously settled on.
The whole point of the ten-year clause was so this divorce would be uncontested, but all she’s done since I came back to the city is contest the damn thing time and time again.
Fucking hell. At this rate, we are going to have to take this to a judge. I’m not going to deal with this anymore. The fact that we had been legally separated for ten years and still have to jump through all these hoops to get the divorce finalized is bullshit.
As far as my life is concerned, Celine and I are divorced—but because I’d been a naive idiot back in the day, I’d caved to a separation decree instead, making it so we are still legally bound together and a marital unit, according to the government.
It is a nightmare. I just want to be free of the damn woman.
There is no love between us, no emotional or physical connection. We are exes—hell, we are enemies.
Why the fuck does she have to keep holding on?
“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Halston leans back in his armchair. “The papers are drawn up according to the settlements outlined in the separation agreement they signed previously.”
“Cullen here never signed a marital property partition agreement with my client; therefore, any property he purchased is considered community property.”
“Except he purchased those properties using solely separate funds. I have the papers—” he reaches for a set of documents on the small table between our armchairs, flicking through and pulling a paperclipped stacked out “—right here.”
Darcy purses her lips, staring at the proffered documents.
She had to know that Halston anticipated this scenario.
I mean, neither of us knew for sure that they would try to weasel the houses from me, but Halston had made me take the precautions anyway.
Everything I have done over the last ten years Halston has combed through to prevent any potential loophole they would exploit.
It has been a brutal process, but I know that I am covered.
Darcy flicks her gaze to Celine, an unspoken agreement passing between them, before squaring back up to Halston.
“Doesn’t matter. Your client committed adultery; therefore, we are requiring additional compensation for emotional and mental damage in the divorce settlement.”
“My client has not committed adultery.”
“No?” Darcy tilts her head and looks at me. “Are you sure you want to stick by that statement?”
What the hell is she on about?
Adultery? What is this, the medieval times?
How could I—
Oh. Fuck.
FUCK.
They can’t mean—
How did they find out?
No, there’s no way she knows about Verity. If she did, she would’ve kicked up a way bigger fuss. Hell, Celine would’ve gone fucking apoplectic. Instead, she’s sitting here all smug. Maybe they know I’m dating someone, but not who. Verity and I haven’t been very public.
I slowly crane my neck to Halston, who regards me with a slight frown.
“Can we talk outside for a second?”
There’s a triumphant smirk from Darcy, causing an easy mask of apathy to slip onto Halston’s face as he nods and goes to exit the office. I follow closely behind.
He pulls me into an empty meeting room, shutting the door with more force than necessary.
“What did you do?”
I raise my hands defensively. “Look, I forgot to tell you.”
“You forgot to tell me what?”
“I’m seeing someone.”
He slowly curls his hands into fists, like he is imagining strangling me in his mind.
“How the hell do you just forget to tell me that?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like I tell you every little thing I do.”
“This isn’t little, Cullen.”
“I know that. I just—fuck.” I run my hand through my hair. “Is dating someone really considered adultery?”
Halston sighs, moving to lean on the edge of the large table in the middle of the room. “No. Dating someone isn’t considered adultery. The law states that adultery occurs when you have sexual intercourse with someone who isn’t your spouse.”
“And if I did have sex…”
“They would need to have proof.”
Well, I doubt they have that unless Celine put cameras in my apartment—which would be illegal.
It would be…right? Unless she claimed my apartment as her own because we are still married.
In which case, would it not be illegal because you can’t break into your own place?
But surveilling someone without their knowledge would be illegal.
Also, filming people having sex without their consent has to be illegal pornography.
Fuck.
I am spiraling.
“We’re separated. I even lived in a completely different state for ten freaking years. How is she still claiming this shit?”
“Honestly, they can’t. If we were in Virginia or Georgia, yes, it could still be considered adultery and mess with the divorce proceedings.
In New York, there is no law that stops you from seeing someone while legally separated with the intention of divorce, which your decree clearly outlines.
The only issue would be if you had a clause in the separation agreement stating that neither party could date—which you don’t. ”
“So, we’re fine?”
“Not exactly. The bigger issue, which I warned you about, was not to do anything that could provoke them and draw out these proceedings more than they already have. Which is precisely what you’ve gone and done. You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants for a few weeks?”
“It’s not like I went out searching for love.”
“Love?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure.” Halston straightens. “Look, I don’t want to leave them in there any longer. Is there anything else I should know?”
“No.”
“Okay, so—”
“Well. Maybe.”
“Yes?”
I take a step back from him. “I don’t want you to get mad though.”
He crosses his arms, and for a young guy, he’s damn intimidating. “No promises.”
“She works for Celine.”
“Who does?”
“The girl I’m seeing.”
Silence.
Pure silence.
Steam rolls off Halston as his right eyelid begins to twitch.
“I’m going to kill you.”