“Same as always—fifty thousand dollars. Honestly, it’s almost touching how worried she is about my health.”
A second later, Anthony burst out laughing.
“Mom, you’re brilliant. That arthritis story was perfect. She swallowed every word.”
Natalie’s fingers began to tremble around the phone.
The medical reports… the prescriptions… had all of it been fake?
“Oh, please, I’m no genius,” Margaret replied lightly. “Your wife is just far too trusting. And generous, which is even better. You should take advantage while you can.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Anthony said. “I want a new car. A real European one. Why else would I have married a rich woman?”
Natalie could hardly draw air into her lungs.
This could not be the same Anthony she had fallen in love with six months ago. Not the man who had looked at her with tears in his eyes, asked her to marry him, and promised a life built on devotion and tenderness.
“Just be careful,” Margaret warned. “Don’t let her start suspecting anything.”
“Relax, Mom. Natalie is so crazy about me she’d pull the moon down from the sky if I asked nicely enough. All I have to do is choose the right words.”
Then came the words that shattered the last of Natalie’s illusions.
“Love?” Anthony scoffed. “I’m not some sentimental fool. I just made a smart move.”
Six months of marriage had been nothing more than a profitable arrangement.
The conversation went on.
Anthony admitted that in a few months they would end the so-called “treatments,” and then he would begin preparing Natalie for the idea of buying him an expensive car. He even sneered at her accomplishments, saying she owed every bit of her success to her father.