When my husband fell seriously ill, I finally had a reason to step into his office after seven years of marriage. All I wanted was to ask for his sick leave. Instead, the receptionist froze, eyes widening as she studied my face. “The man you’re talking about… he owns this company. Our boss and his wife arrive and leave together every day. Unless… you’re not his wife.” In that second, my world cracked open.

The worst blow, though, didn’t come from me or the courts. It came from Genevieve.

I found out about it during a deposition.

We were sitting in a conference room—me, Ethan, Steven, and Steven’s legal team, who looked like they wanted to be anywhere else. The air smelled like coffee and photocopy toner. A court reporter clicked away at a small machine in the corner.

During a break, Steven glanced at his phone and let out a strangled noise.

“Everything all right, Mr. Condan?” Ethan asked mildly.

Steven threw the phone onto the table. It landed screen-up, still playing a video.

A gossip site’s live stream. The caption: Exclusive: Genevieve Bell spotted in St. Tropez with rival tech mogul Marcus Thorne.

The video showed Genevieve laughing on a yacht, her hair blowing in the sea breeze. Beside her was a man I recognized from the business pages—Marcus Thorne, one of Steven’s competitors. Tan, muscular, holding a drink with the easy entitlement of someone used to owning entire coastlines.

The reporter’s disembodied voice asked from behind the camera, “Miss Bell, any comment on your relationship with Apex Tech CEO, Steven Condan?”

Genevieve lowered her sunglasses and looked straight into the camera.

“Steven?” she said, with a light laugh. “Oh, that was barely a fling. Honestly, I didn’t know he was married. He lied to me, too. I’m just a victim in all this.”

The video cut to her kissing Marcus.

Steven stared at the screen as if he’d just been shot.

“She told me she was going to visit her mother,” he muttered. “She said she needed time to think. She took—she took all the cash I had in the safe.”

I felt a flicker of pity, an old reflex. I crushed it ruthlessly.

“She did exactly what you taught her to do,” I said. “Take the money and run.”

He flinched, just slightly.

The legal battle lasted six months.

Steven tried everything. He hired forensic accountants of his own. He attempted to hide assets offshore, transferring money through shell companies and friendly names. Ethan and his team dismantled every attempt with relentless precision.

We presented the emergency room report. The voice recording of his promise about the dowry. Screenshots of messages and photos, bank records of extravagant spending on Genevieve.