2.I never told my ex-husband or his wealthy family that I was the secret owner of the multi-billion dollar company where they all worked. To them, I was just the "poor, pregnant burden" they tolerated out of obligation.

By Wednesday afternoon, the news of the scandal had completely consumed the financial press.

CRIMINAL INDICTMENT ISSUED FOR BRENDAN MORRISON, read the headlines on the Wall Street Journal. VANGUARD GLOBAL UNVEILS SECRET FOUNDER IN DRAMATIC CORPORATE RESTRUCTURING.

With all their assets frozen and their bank accounts seized under federal court orders, Diane and Brendan had been forced to move into a tiny, two-bedroom rented apartment in Queens—funded temporarily by a high-interest payday loan Diane had managed to secure before her credit score collapsed.

Inside the cramped, dim living room, the air smelled of stale takeaway food and cheap cigarettes.

Diane sat on a faded vinyl sofa, staring blankly at the small television screen broadcasting live coverage of my morning press conference outside the New York Stock Exchange.

On the screen, I stood under the bright morning sun, flanked by politicians and international business leaders, looking radiant and completely untouchable as I announced a fifty-million-dollar philanthropic grant for maternal healthcare.

"Look at her..." Diane hissed, her voice raspy, her manicured nails now chipped and dirty. "Look at that little snake... sitting on billions while we rot in this dump!"

Jessica came out of the tiny bathroom, carrying two packed suitcases.

"Where do you think you're going?" Diane snapped, turning her bitter gaze upon the younger woman.

"I'm leaving, Diane," Jessica spat, dragging her bags toward the front door. "Brendan is going to federal prison for ten years! He doesn't have a dime! Why would I stay here with you in this cockroach-infested hole?!"

"You ungrateful little gold-digger!" Diane yelled, standing up. "You ate our food! You drank my wine! You laughed at her right along with us!"

"Yeah, and look where that got me!" Jessica yelled back, throwing her hands up. "My bank accounts are frozen because your stupid son sent money to my name! Vanguard's lawyers served me with a civil recovery lawsuit this morning! I'm broke because of your family!"

Jessica slammed the front door shut, leaving Diane alone in the silence of the tiny apartment.

A few minutes later, the door opened again. Brendan walked in, looking like a ghost. His eyes were sunken, his suit rumpled, carrying a plastic bag containing cheap sandwiches from the corner deli.

"Where's Jessica?" Brendan asked lifelessly, setting the bag on the rickety wooden table.

"She left," Diane snapped, wiping a tear from her cheek. "She took her things and left."

Brendan didn't even look surprised. He sank into a wooden chair, staring at the floor.

"The lawyer said the bail is set at five hundred thousand dollars," Brendan whispered, his voice trembling. "We don't have five hundred dollars, Mom. If I can't post bail by Friday, I wait for trial in Rikers Island."

Diane grabbed his shoulders, her voice rising into a desperate, frantic scream. "Go to her, Brendan! Go to Cassidy! Kneel outside her office building! Beg her! Crawl on your belly! Tell her you'll be her servant! She's pregnant with your baby—she has to have a heart left!"