I shot to my feet and shoved through the café door. Cold wind hit my face, and every ounce of hatred inside me burned white-hot.
I walked to the curb and dialed my father.
"Dad. It's time."
"Are you sure? Once we move, there's no turning back." His voice was steady and grave.
"I'm sure." I bit down on every syllable. "They stole my designs. They're destroying my marriage. They're spending my money. And they have the nerve to mock me to my face. I want them to pay for every last bit of it."
"Good. I'm behind you. Starting tomorrow, we pull the net closed."
I hung up. The sunset bled red across half the sky. All that was left in my eyes was ice-cold resolve.
That weekend, Ralph was up early, dressed to the nines, preening in front of the mirror with a tenderness that didn't suit him.
"Babe, I'm meeting an important client today. Might not be back until tonight." He came over and gave me a hug, his eyes darting away from mine.
I knew exactly where he was going. Not to any client. He was taking Lisa to her prenatal checkup, browsing the baby store, and polishing up the design he'd stolen from me.
"Okay. Drive safe." I smiled, sweet and harmless.
The moment his car disappeared down the street, I went upstairs, changed into a sharp tailored suit, and convened an emergency online board meeting for Henson Group as its controlling shareholder.
