"We're not divorced yet. Legally, you're still my wife."
Something colder settled into Ethan's eyes as his composure snapped back into place.
He registered what he'd just done in front of a room full of people and, rather than panic, doubled down.
He believed he was in the right here. There was no version of this where the Sinclairs would side against him over one woman.
He turned to the old man, blunt. "Mr. Sinclair. Naomi is my wife. I'm here to bring her home."
Every set of eyes in the room fixed on the three of them.
The old man raised his head slowly, met Naomi's eyes first, and then let out a short, humorless laugh. "Funny. I don't recall hearing anything about Naomi being your wife."
"Where exactly were you when she needed someone?"
If he hadn't dug into Naomi's background h
