A triumphant one stops.

Every bolt Jonathan tightened in those last days, every asset he stripped and every door he sealed, he did in front of a woman he had stopped considering a threat, and each of those acts went, that same evening, into a notebook and then into a lawyer’s safe.

He was not locking me in.

He was, without knowing it, dictating his own indictment to the only person in the house still keeping the books.

Chapter 22 — The Account That Dropped to Zero