Preston had secretly leveraged company assets against loans I did not know about.

He had forged my digital authorization on two major transactions.

And he had been planning, the audit made clear, to drain millions of dollars offshore and then file for divorce, leaving me with the wreckage and himself with a fortune in an account I could not reach.

Serena stared at Preston, her carefully composed face coming apart.

“You told me that money was yours,” she whispered.

“Shut up, Serena,” Preston snapped, and I almost smiled, because there it was, even now, the same reflexive arrogance, the same belief that a sharp enough command could still control a room that had already, completely, escaped him.