Chapter 7

Her face went white.

All the staff around us suddenly found their phones very interesting and looked down, pretending they hadn't heard anything.

Just then, Christian walked in from outside the studio.

He'd probably rushed over the second he got the news. His jacket wasn't even buttoned.

He saw me, and his brow immediately furrowed.

"Claire, what are you doing here causing a scene?"

I looked at him.

"I came to take back what belongs to me."

"The shoot has already started."

"So?"

Christian stepped closer, his voice low and controlled.

"This cover is important. It's Bee's first major magazine contract since coming back to the States. Whatever you're upset about, I'll make it up to you."

Make it up.

Those two words, coming out of his mouth, sounded like a stale check.

For the past three years, he'd missed my birthdays and said he'd make it up.

Forgotten our anniversaries and said he'd make it up.

Let Bianca take the passenger seat in my car and said he'd make it up.

Now, he'd given her my wedding dress and was still saying he'd make it up.

I asked him, "How, exactly, do you plan to make it up?"

Christian clearly thought I was finally backing down.

"What do you want?"

I held my phone out to him.

On the screen was the divorce agreement.

"Sign it."

His face darkened, rage simmering just below the surface.

"Claire, don't push your luck."

Beside him, Bianca murmured softly, "Chris, don't fight with Claire because of me. Maybe I should just stop the shoot. Really."

She moved as if to undo the clasps on the back of the dress.

The movement was very slow.

Her tears were also very punctual.

Christian immediately put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"You don't need to do that."

He turned back to look at me.

"Claire, I'll say this one last time. You'll get it back after the shoot."

I didn't argue with him anymore.

I turned to face the on-set producer instead.

"This dress has no authorization form, no loan contract, and no credit approval. Stop the shoot within ten minutes. Otherwise, I'll be suing your magazine for infringement and the unauthorized commercial use of a prototype sample."

The producer's face shifted.

"Mr. Van Ness, this is..."

Christian said coldly, "Whatever the problem is, I'll take responsibility."

I laughed out loud.

"You'll take responsibility?"

I pulled out another document.

"Christian, you can't afford to take this responsibility."