Chapter 2

I drove to the Meridian Hotel downtown, checked into a suite, and sat on the edge of the bed.

The room was silent. Pristine. Impersonal.

I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room. Thirty-one years old. Tired eyes. A $40 blouse from a clearance rack. Sensible flats because Landon once said heels made me "look like I was trying too hard."

I'd shrunk myself into a box small enough for him to feel big.

Never again.

My phone buzzed. A text from Landon.

"Hey babe, got home late. You left food on the table? Thanks. Love you. Don't wait up. 😘"

The audacity made my vision blur.

He'd finished with my sister, eaten the anniversary dinner I'd bought for him, and then texted me a heart emoji.

I didn't reply.

Instead, I opened my laptop and pulled up every financial record I could access.

What I found made my blood run cold.

Landon's company, Hale Ventures, wasn't just struggling. It was hemorrhaging. He'd been hiding losses for over a year. The quarterly reports he'd shown me—the ones where he'd smiled and said "We're turning a corner, babe"—were fabricated.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the $200,000 wire transfer. Made three months ago. To an account registered under Cressida Ashford. My sister.

He'd been funneling my money to her.

The retirement fund I'd emptied to save his company—he'd been skimming from it, sending chunks of it to the woman he was sleeping with behind my back.

My phone rang. Cressida.

I almost didn't answer. But something cold and calculating had settled in my chest, something that had been asleep for seven years and was now wide awake.

"Hey, sis!" Her voice was bright. Bubbly. "Just checking in. Mom said you've been stressed lately. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Cressida."

"Good! Oh, by the way, I need a tiny favor. My rent's due next week and I'm a little short. Could you spot me, like, three thousand? I'll pay you back, I swear."

Three thousand.

She was sleeping with my husband, collecting $200,000 of my money through a hidden pipeline, and now she wanted me to Venmo her rent.

"Sure," I said. "I'll send it tomorrow."

"You're the best! Seriously, Viv, I don't know what I'd do without you. You're like, the most generous person alive."

I hung up and stared at the ceiling.

For seven years, I had been the family ATM. The reliable one. The boring one. The one who worked overtime so Landon could play CEO. The one who paid Cressida's credit card bills because "she's your baby sister, Vivienne, she's still finding herself."

Finding herself. In my husband's bed.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Diana.

"Vivienne, I pulled some preliminary records. You're not going to like this."

"Tell me."

"Landon took out a second mortgage on your house. Without your knowledge. He forged your signature on the documents."

The room tilted.

"He owes $1.2 million to a private lender. The collateral is your home. If he defaults—which, based on his company's finances, he will within sixty days—you lose the house."

I closed my eyes.

He hadn't just betrayed me. He'd set me up to lose everything.

"Diana. How fast can we move?"

"If you want to protect your assets, we need to move now. Tomorrow morning. Before he realizes you know."

"Do it."

I hung up and walked to the window.

The city glittered below me. Somewhere out there, Landon was sleeping soundly in our bed—sheets that probably still smelled like my sister's perfume—dreaming his small, greedy dreams.

He had no idea what was coming.

None of them did.

I picked up the phone one more time.

"Grandmother. I need access to the family's legal team. All of them."

"Done. Vivienne—how much damage are we talking about?"

"Not much. But I intend to make the damage I cause significantly larger."

A low, warm laugh on the other end.

"That's my girl."