“I’ve reviewed the preliminary filings,” she said, looking over the rim of her reading glasses. “I need to know your operational parameters, Clara. Do you want the clean, quiet, dignified version of this divorce… or the devastating one?”

I lowered the ice pack. The cold had numbed the pain, but the fire in my chest was out of control. “The devastating one. Leave nothing but salted earth.”

A predatory smile touched the corners of Marissa’s mouth. Her red fingernails began flying across the keyboard. “Excellent. I was hoping you’d say that.

I hate being bored.”

For three years, Daniel Carter had believed I was a quiet, submissive woman with a modest inheritance from a forgotten grandfather. He was a man who loved the mirror too much to look out the window.

He never questioned why the exorbitant mortgage was always paid a week early. He never wondered why ruthless venture capitalists suddenly started returning his calls weeks after he married me.