My entire advantage was that they thought they had already won.

So I had to move fast and silent, in the dark, while they laid low congratulating themselves — had to build the whole case, secure the assets, get the protective order, empty the penthouse, and change the locks, all inside the window they had handed me by assuming I was too broken to do anything but wait.

Two days.

It was enough, because they had given it to me, and because I had stopped being the woman they thought they were dealing with the moment I read the second text.

Chapter 12 — Whose Money Built It

My name was on the primary deed to our penthouse at Clarendon Heights — the panoramic apartment over the skyline that we supposedly owned together.