She gasped and her hand covered her stomach. "I'm not making this baby go away."
Jesus fuck. That wasn’t what I meant. I leaned over, setting my hand on the table and pointing my other finger at her. "I'm not telling you to get rid of the baby. I want to know how to get rid of you and your father. If this baby is mine, I'm going to be a father. In fact, considering what you and your father did to me, I can probably get sole custody. I’ll raise the child while you and your father rot in prison for fraud and whatever other crimes you committed while drugging me."
Her face drained of color. Her eyes were wide with shock. "You can't take my baby."
Filled with righteous indignation, I straightened, tugging my coat and buttoning it, finally feeling like I had my power back. "Just watch me."
I started to walk away but then realized my business with her still wasn't done. I turned back and strode toward her, holding out my hand. She looked at it, and she lifted hers almost like she thought I was asking for her hand.
"Give me the annulment papers. I'm going to file them myself because I don't trust you."
Her hands shook as she reached into her purse, pulling out the envelope and handing it to me.
“I'm going to file these, and when the court date comes, I'm not going to show up. Maybe you think I can’t read, but I can, and I know from the annulment website that if I don't show up, by default, the judge will grant the annulment. And if I hear from you or your father, you can bet that I will do everything in my power to take you down and put you in jail."
It was a threat I would keep even though it meant I would be opening myself up to ridicule for having been taken in by her and her father. But I’d do what I had to do to protect my family and the child Amelia was carrying.
With that, I turned and left the room. I made it only a few steps up the hall before my legs felt like they were going to give out. I leaned against the wall, bending over slightly with my hands on my thighs as I took deep breaths. To be honest, I was a little shocked at some of the words that came out of my mouth. But I was tired of being the butt of people's jokes. I was sick of people thinking that I was stupid, even though Amelia and her father proved that I was.
Realizing that Amelia would emerge from the conference room at any minute and not wanting her to see me like this, I straightened and headed up the hall, making a beeline for the elevator.
I’d never felt so angry, so sick, so disappointed in my life. For a short moment in time, I’d let myself think that Amelia could be the one for me. That I could have what Sam and Kate had. What my parents had.
This time, I would face the truth. My siblings could expand the family and give my parents grandchildren. My heart was officially closed.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Amelia
My entire body shook as I sat in the conference room alone. I understood Max's anger, but I was hurt that he would think I was part of my father's scheme. I was shocked and horrified by the threat he made to take the baby from me and send me to jail. I would've never thought Max would be capable of something so cruel.
But then it occurred to me that I didn't really know him. It felt like I did because every time we were together, it was perfect. But I could count the number of times we'd actually been together in the same location on one hand. We talked on the phone several times, but in reality, over the last few weeks, we'd only seen or talked to each other less than a dozen times. How ridiculous, then, that I would feel I was in love with him. I thought I knew him, but the man I saw today wasn't the man I had come to know. He wouldn't listen to me. He not only didn't trust me, but he also thought I was out to get him.
I managed to stand on wobbly legs. The exchange with Max had left me shaken. As hurt as I was that he wouldn't listen to my side of the story, I knew the true person to blame was my father. My anger bloomed into rage, making me want to seek my father out and find a way to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt me.
I thought about what Max had said about my father’s actions being illegal. As I left the conference room and through the hotel toward the exit, I thought about going to the police. Would they believe me? And if they did, was there anything they could do about it? I didn't know who the driver of the car that picked Max and I up after dinner had been. Whatever they used to drug us was out of our systems for sure. Could I prove that the paperwork was forged or signed under duress? Would the fact that Max and I had thought we'd gotten drunk and married, instead of suspecting we’d been drugged, work against us?
I wanted more than anything to bring my father down, but I wasn't confident that I could without evidence. If I went after him and failed, who knew what the ramifications for me would be? My father had the power, influence, and resources to retaliate in a way that I wouldn't be able to recover from. If it were only me, I still might do it, but I had my baby to think about.
I pulled out my phone, using the app to order a car, glad I'd made the decision to take a rideshare instead of driving. I wasn’t in the right headspace to get behind the wheel.
As the driver headed toward my home, I sat in the backseat feeling so utterly alone. Already, I missed Max’s support and sweetness. I grieved that I would never have it again. Instead, I would need to find a way to protect myself and the baby from him.
"Are you alright back there, Miss?"
I lifted my eyes to look at my driver through his rearview mirror. It was only by seeing my face in the mirror that I realized I was crying.
I gave him a wan smile. "Not really."
"The address that I'm taking you to, is there somebody there who will be able to help you?"
I shook my head.
"Maybe there is somewhere else I can take you. Maybe to a family member or a friend?"
I started to shake my head, but then I thought of James. It had always been James and me against the world. If there was a time that I absolutely needed him, it was now. It would be dangerous for him to help me because even though he was part of my father's business, he wasn't safe from my father's ire or from getting thrown out of the family business. But the driver was right that I needed to talk to somebody, and James was the only person in my life who cared about me.
I gave the driver James's address. He seemed relieved as he made a right-hand turn toward the section of town that James lived in.