A Fake Heiress’s Guide to Love and Power novel Chapter 392

Vera didn’t flinch. She hurled the washbasin straight at his head. The plastic cracked with a hollow thud, leaving a jagged hole, and the man staggered, seeing stars.

“I’ve called a lawyer. If you want to rack up an assault charge on top of everything else, go ahead. Hit me. Do it in front of my lawyer!”

Vera squared her shoulders, glaring at him with a burning mix of heartbreak and fury in her eyes.

“Mom’s been in the hospital for a week because of you. You haven’t called, you haven’t visited, nothing. All you do is gamble, drink, and beat your wife. What kind of man are you? I’m telling you, I’m here today to file for divorce on Mom’s behalf. If you refuse, I’ll call the police and drag this out as long as it takes!”

Her eyes were rimmed red, voice unwavering. Only she could feel the sweat slicking her back and palms.

“Ahem–Miss Leigh?” The lawyer stepped in, clearing his throat politely behind a hand.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Vera/muttered, lowering her voice and stepping outside.

After a moment, her father finally shuffled out, now in a different shirt–though who knew how many days he’d worn it. He reeked of sweat and booze, hair still damp as he wiped it with the bottom of his shirt, completely unbothered.

“Mr. Leigh, on behalf of Mrs. Leigh–Carla–we’re requesting that you voluntarily dissolve your marriage as she wishes,” the lawyer said evenly. “Divorce? So she can run off with that other guy, is that it?” Hamlin barked out a bitter laugh, grabbing a beer from the fridge, popping it open, and taking a long swig.

Vera clenched her jaw, fighting to keep her temper in check.

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10:04

Chapter 392

“Do you have proof?” Hamlin sneered.

“We do. We have testimony that you assaulted Mrs. Leigh and sent her to the hospital. Here’s her medical report. This alone is enough to not only end your marriage, but to land you in jail.”

Hamlin paused mid–drink. Scowling, he snatched the folder from the lawyer and squinted at the dense writing, his bloodshot eyes swimming. The blur of words made him sick. With a gag, he slammed down his bottle, tore open the folder, and shredded the documents into confetti.

“Don’t think you can waltz in here in your fancy suit and make me believe your crap. If that woman’s got something to say, let her come say it to my face. See if I don’t beat her to death! And you–where’s my money? You promised me ten grand this month. Can’t pay? You’d better marry someone rich and send the money home. Don’t think you’re above me just because you moved to the city. You and your mother–both worthless!”

With that, Hamlin’s hand cracked across Vera’s face. The slap echoed in the room, leaving a red, swollen mark bright against her fair skin, his fingerprints clear as day.

“Mr. Leigh, if you do that again I’ll call the police!” The lawyer shot up, face dark with anger.

“Go on, call! Evidence? What evidence? My wife’s my business, none of yours. Who saw it, huh? Who? Try me, I’ll smash this bottle over your head, you bunch of nosy busybodies!”

Chaos erupted. Hamlin smashed the bottle on the table and swung it at the lawyer. If Vera hadn’t shoved him aside at the last second, the glass would’ve driven straight into the lawyer’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Miss Leigh,” the lawyer stammered, his suit stained and rumpled, flecked with beer. He straightened his tie, shaking his head as he backed toward the door. “You’ll have to call the police. Your father… he’s out of his mind.”

With that, he turned and hurried away, leaving Vera alone in the wreckage.