My husband threw my life-saving medication into the trash, cut the electricity and water, changed the penthouse door code, and left me paralyzed in the freezing darkness while he took his mother and sister on a seventy-four-

The interior of the Metropolitan Detention Center was sterile, bleak, and smelled of stale floor wax and industrial bleach.

Thaddius sat behind a thick sheet of scratched plexiglass in the high-security visitor room. He wore a faded orange jumpsuit that was two sizes too big for his gaunt frame. His hair was messy, unwashed, and thinning. The dark circles under his hollow eyes reflected weeks of sleepless, terrifying nights spent in a cold cell.

Across the glass, the heavy steel door clicked open.

Thaddius gasped, sitting up straight. For a fleeting moment, a desperate hope flared in his chest. Did she come? Did Seraphina come to forgive him?

The person who walked in was not Seraphina.

It was Marcus Vance, the chief liquidation attorney for the Hartwell Estate.

"Where is she?" Thaddius demanded frantically through the intercom handset. "Where is Seraphina?! I need to see my wife!"

Marcus Vance sat down calmly, opening a thick leather briefcase and laying out several official legal documents against the glass.

"Mrs. Seraphina Hartwell is currently in London, expanding her family's international real estate portfolio," Vance said, his voice completely businesslike. "She has no interest in seeing you, Mr. Mercer. Ever again."

"I am still her husband!" Thaddius yelled, banging his fist against the plexiglass. "Under state law, I have marital property rights! She can't just throw me away!"

"You were her husband, Mr. Mercer," Vance corrected him, pushing a document against the glass. "Yesterday afternoon, the Supreme Court of New York granted an emergency decree of absolute annulment on the grounds of criminal fraud, attempted murder, and severe spousal abuse. The marriage has been legally dissolved as if it never existed."

Thaddius stared at the paper, his mouth open in terror. "The assets... the penthouse... the trading firm..."

"All property, accounts, trademarks, and assets previously associated with your name have been completely repossessed by Hartwell Enterprises," Vance continued smoothly. "Furthermore, the court has issued a permanent Restitution Order. Every penny you owe in legal damages, court fees, and stolen funds—totaling $42 million—has been converted into an eternal civil judgment. Even if you are ever released from prison when you are an old man, every dollar you ever earn, every asset you ever touch, will be automatically garnished by the Hartwell Estate."

Thaddius fell back into his chair, breathing heavily. "What about my mother? What about Genevieve?"

Vance offered a short, cold nod. "Clarice and Genevieve signed plea agreements this morning. They were sentenced to twelve years each at the Danbury Federal Correctional Institution. Their personal savings, their jewelry, and their homes have been seized to pay back the credit card companies they defrauded during their European vacation."

Vance began packing his documents back into his briefcase. He stood up, looking down at Thaddius with absolute contempt.

"You had everything, Mr. Mercer," Vance said softly. "You were given access to a world of prestige, wealth, and love that most men could only dream of. But your greed made you blind. You tried to kill an angel because you wanted to inherit her throne."