Right after the divorce, my husband hugged his mistress and mocked her: “Now you’re just an old rag!” But 5 minutes later, 10 Rolls-Royces arrived and someone shouted: “Get in the car, ma’am!” The surprise was total, the end of it all came quickly.

The car passed through an imposing iron gate and stopped in front of a spectacular white mansion that looked like a fairy tale castle. I felt like a speck of dust about to be swallowed by opulence as I stepped out of the vehicle.

An elegant woman named Mrs. Higgins greeted me at the door with a sweet smile and took my hand with genuine warmth. “Serena, I have heard so much about your suffering, but please consider this your home from now on,” she whispered.

She led me to a grand room on the second floor where the faint smell of medicine hung in the air. “Your father is inside and he has wished so much to see you,” she said as I reached for the cold doorknob with a shaking hand.

The man in the bed was a shadow of his former self but his eyes glowed with tears when he saw me enter. “You have come back, Serena,” he rasped while reaching out a thin hand that I took immediately.

That night I was assigned a suite larger than my old apartment but I felt more alone than ever amidst the silk and marble. I sat by the window until Mr. Jenkins entered with a tray of food and a thick stack of documents.

“Miss, I know you are confused but Vice President Silas Vance is planning to seize control of the group tomorrow morning,” he warned. Silas was described as an ambitious man who intended to drain the company’s assets through a ghost project in the Florida Keys.

I felt a surge of adrenaline because I couldn’t let my father’s life work be destroyed by a criminal. I told Mr. Jenkins I was ready and spent the entire night drinking black coffee while studying financial reports and personnel records.

I had secretly taken online finance courses during my marriage hoping for independence, but I never knew those skills would become my weapon. By dawn, I had found massive irregularities in the Florida project including inflated prices and fake partners.

I looked in the mirror and saw a woman with a gaze of steel who was no longer the submissive wife Gavin had discarded. I chose a cream colored suit for the board meeting and pinned a sapphire butterfly brooch to my lapel for luck.

When I entered the Solara Tower, hundreds of employees whispered about the inexperienced girl who was supposedly taking over. I ignored them and walked into the boardroom where Silas Vance sat in my father’s chair with a look of pure arrogance.