Alan never wanted to get dragged into this mess, but Marian had been so nervous about Brody coming home and demanding answers that she practically begged him to deliver the divorce papers. He barely had time to figure out what to say before Brody flipped open the file and stared right at the bold words at the top.
Alan’s mouth went dry. "Sir, this is... these are the papers your wife left at the house. Before she left, she told Marian she hoped you would... sign them. As soon as possible." He tripped over the words, feeling like his tongue didn’t quite belong to him.
Brody didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and careful. "When was this?"
Alan risked a glance up. Brody’s face was unreadable, his tone flat, almost bored. For a second, Alan thought maybe he’d been overthinking. The marriage was just for appearances anyway, and Brody never seemed to care about Nelly. The only person he actually cared about was Sheila. If Nelly wanted a divorce, Brody wouldn’t even have to go against their prenup. Honestly, it might be a relief.
"Three days ago," Alan replied, sounding lighter now. "Sir, you have a two-hour window open tomorrow morning. Should I contact Mrs.... Ms. Stewart for you?"
He barely finished the sentence before Brody shot him a look so cold it made Alan’s skin prickle. He tensed up, realizing he’d definitely said the wrong thing.
"So if she says we’re getting divorced, I’m supposed to do it? Who do you work for, Alan?" Brody’s eyebrow lifted, his mouth twisting into a smile that was anything but friendly.
"I’m sorry, sir. I misspoke." Alan ducked his head, apologizing right away.
Brody didn’t bother with another word. He just flicked his hand and sent the papers scattering across the floor. Alan scrambled to pick them up as Brody strode out of the room.
Carrie was still asleep. Brody posted two bodyguards outside her hospital door, had a quick word with Jessie, arranged for a nurse, and then left the hospital with Alan trailing behind.
They got into the car, and Alan had no clue what Brody planned to do next. He didn’t dare ask. He just started the engine and drove.

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