“What is this?”
“I told you. It’s self-explanatory. Just read it and sign.”
She bent her head over the pages. Legal terms leaped at her, heavy with stilted verbiage.
Party of the first part…attests and hereby swears…agrees and guarantees in perpetuity…
She looked at him. “How about translating this into English?”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “It’s a legal waiver.”
“A waiver for what?”
“Look at the last page.”
Her breath caught as she looked at the page he’d indicated.
A check made out to her was clipped to it. The check was for an amount that had too many zeroes to approximate a real number.
She stared at it in silence. After what seemed forever, Roarke cursed, snatched the documents from her, unclipped the check and shoved it into her hand.
Jennifer shook her head. “I don’t understand. What is this?”
“What does it look like?” he asked harshly.
“I don’t know. That’s why I—”
“Did you read the document at all?” Roarke scanned the pages, then shoved the last one at her and jabbed his finger at the final paragraph.
“This is the part that matters. It’s where you agree to give up all future rights and claims to Susanna in exchange for—”
“What are you saying?”
Roarke stared at her through dark, cold eyes. “You won’t get a dime unless you sign.” he said flatly. “And if you’re thinking of holding out for more—”
The check fluttered from Jennifer’s hand and fell to the floor.
He knew! Oh God, he knew.
“—you don’t have a chance in hell of getting her back. If you try, I’ll see to it you spend the rest of your life in court—or in jail. Do you understand me, Jennifer?”
“You—you know,” she said in a tremulous whisper.
“That you gave birth to the child I thought was mine?” His mouth twisted. “Yes. I know.”
She stepped away from him, feeling for the couch she knew must be behind her, and sank down on it.
“Alexandra told you. I begged her not to, but she told you anyway!” tale about her terrible hours in labor.”
“Then how—”
“It was the doctor who arranged the deal for you. The greedy, evil son of a bitch!”
“It wasn’t a deal. Not the way you mean it.”
“You want to call it something nicer, make yourself feel better, hey, that’s your privilege. The point is, Ronald told me everything.”
Jennifer stared at him. “I don’t understand.”