“Leave the Cartier. Leave the keys to the Range Rover. Leave everything my son’s sweat and blood paid for. You are dismissed.”

I stood perfectly still, my eyes locked on hers.

I thought about the ten thousand dollars a month she burned through on weekly spa retreats, bespoke handbags, and the private chauffeur idling in the driveway.

That money had never once come from Daniel. The transfers were routed through his corporate account to massage his ego—but they were funded entirely by me.

I thought about this ten-thousand-square-foot fortress she called her own. It had never belonged to Daniel. He didn’t have a fraction of the credit required to buy the front door, let alone the estate.

It had been purchased through an anonymous corporate entity.