I yanked the front door open.

David stood in the hallway. He clutched the manila folder against his chest, his eyes darting to the floor.

"Killian is waiting downstairs," David muttered. "He wants to handle this tonight."

I took the envelope from his hands. "Lead the way."

We rode the elevator in complete silence. The tension radiating off David was palpable, but I kept my posture rigid. I wouldn't give Killian's lackey the satisfaction of seeing me sweat.

Killian sat in the corner booth of the building's private lounge. He swirled amber liquid in a crystal glass. He looked entirely too relaxed for a man whose marriage had imploded an hour ago.

"Sit," Killian ordered.

I slid into the leather booth opposite him.

He tossed a printed document onto the table. "Read it. We are doing this my way."

I picked up the first page. The legal jargon blurred together, but the bold headings stood out clearly.

"You want the marital home," I stated flatly.

"And full custody of Leo," Killian added. "Along with your sixty percent stake in the firm."

I stared at him. "You want to strip me of everything."

"I'm offering a generous cash buyout," he replied, taking a sip of his scotch. "Five hundred thousand. More than enough for you to rent a nice place and start over."

"My shares are worth fifty million, Killian. I built that company from the ground up."

"And I scaled it," he shot back, his jaw tightening. "They're worth nothing without my leadership. You've been an absentee CEO for two years. I run the day-to-day operations. The board answers to me. You are obsolete."

I lowered the paper. It was time to play my part.

I forced my lower lip to quiver. I let the document slip from my fingers, letting it flutter onto the table. I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing a single, pathetic tear down my cheek.

"Leo," I whispered, my voice trembling. "What about my son? I want to see him."

"Blair will take over his daily care," Killian said, his tone entirely void of empathy. "She’s already picking out new wallpaper for his room. He calls her Mommy now. You saw it yourself. It would only confuse him if you kept popping in and out."

I buried my face in my hands. My shoulders shook violently.

I wasn't crying. I was using every ounce of my willpower to suppress a laugh.

"I just want peace," I choked out, peeking through my fingers. "I can't fight you, Killian. I'm too exhausted."

Killian blinked. His defensive posture vanished. He leaned back against the plush leather, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.

"Smart choice, Elowen," he purred. "I thought you would make a scene. I'm glad you're finally being rational."

"Where do I sign?" I asked, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.

He slid a silver pen across the table. "Right at the bottom. This is just a preliminary agreement. We finalize in two weeks."

I grabbed the pen. I let my hand shake as I scrawled my signature on the dotted line.

Killian snatched the paper back immediately. "David will file this in the morning. Don't contact Leo. We will reach out when he's ready."

I nodded meekly, keeping my eyes fixed on the table until he walked away.

Three days later, Nora shoved a tablet across my kitchen island.

"Look at this," my lawyer snapped.

A live stream played on the screen. It was the annual City Commerce Gala. Killian walked the red carpet under a barrage of flashing camera lights.

Blair clung to his bicep. She wore a crimson gown that cost more than her yearly front-desk salary. She waved at the cameras, soaking in the attention.

"She's telling everyone in our social circle that you abandoned the family," Nora said, crossing her arms. "She's playing the saint."

On the screen, a reporter shoved a microphone toward Blair.

"Elowen is a very driven woman," Blair purred to the camera, feigning a sympathetic smile. "But a child needs warmth. I just couldn't watch little Leo cry anymore. He would wait by the door for a mother who never came home. Someone had to step up and be a real parent."

I took a sip of my black coffee. "Let her talk. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall."

"She moved into the executive suite yesterday," Nora continued, swiping the screen to a photo of Blair yelling at a receptionist. "She fired two of your loyal managers just because they asked her for an ID badge. Killian didn't even blink. He gave her the corporate platinum card and told security to give her top-level clearance."

"She feels untouchable," I noted.

"She is acting like she owns the place," Nora argued. "She ordered accounting to buy her a custom desk. She's parading around headquarters, bragging about the divorce settlement. Everyone thinks you just rolled over and died."

"Good. Arrogance breeds carelessness."

"Killian is certainly careless," Nora agreed, pulling up a new document on her phone. "He fired his private cybersecurity firm this morning. He told the board it was an unnecessary expense."

I set my mug down. "He thinks he won. He thinks I'm a broken woman hiding in my apartment, crying over my lost son."

My phone vibrated against the marble counter.

An unknown number flashed on the screen. I answered immediately.

"Marcus," I said.

"You were right," the private investigator's gruff voice filled the speaker. "He dropped all the internal firewalls. He left his private office terminal completely logged in while he went to that gala."

"What do you have?"

"Everything," Marcus replied. A keyboard clacked rapidly in the background. "The offshore accounts in the Caymans. The shadow loans. He didn't even bother encrypting the tax evasion files. They were sitting in a desktop folder labeled 'Miscellaneous'."

"He thinks he's invincible," I murmured. "Did you get the hotel receipts?"

"Two years' worth of them. Plus text logs, diamond purchases, and the deed to Blair's townhouse. I also found a string of emails between him and a shell company in Panama. He's been laundering company profits through fake vendor invoices. I'm copying the entire hard drive right now."

"Don't leave a single digital footprint."

"I never do," Marcus said.

I glanced at Nora. She offered a fierce, satisfied grin.

"We have him," I told her quietly.

"Wait," Marcus interrupted over the speaker.

"What is it?"

The typing stopped. A heavy, suffocating silence stretched over the line.

"Elowen," Marcus said, his tone dropping an octave. "I just found a secondary ledger hidden beneath the offshore transfers."

"For what?"

"Life insurance. He took out a massive policy on you six months ago."

My blood ran cold. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"How much?" I asked, my grip tightening on the phone.

"Twenty million dollars," Marcus replied. "And the beneficiary isn't your son."

"It's Blair."

"Worse," Marcus said. "I think you need to see the signature on this medical approval form. You're in serious danger."