Daniel, driven by the sheer terror of losing his fortune, grabbed my arm once more.

“Claire, please,” he begged, the authoritative bass completely stripped from his voice.

“Stop this. Send a retraction email. Tell them your account was hacked. We can sit down. We can talk about this. I’ll give you whatever you want in the settlement.”

I looked down at his hand gripping my sleeve.

I didn’t say a word. I just stared at his fingers until the sheer weight of my disdain forced him to slowly, shamefully release me.

“You had seven years to talk to me, Daniel,” I said, adjusting my sleeve.

“You preferred to treat me like a mute secretary. I’m just finally handing in my resignation.”