My mother-in-law threw a baby shower for my husband’s mistress inside the house I had bought with my inheritance, then introduced the unborn child as the family’s “true heir.” They expected me to surrender my home, my company, and even a family heirloom—but one sentence about a paternity test turned their celebration into a room full of terrified silence.

While Grant’s world was crumbling under the weight of his own foolishness, I sat in my father’s old study at the estate, reviewing the grand scheme that Marcus Sterling had constructed.

Claire poured two glasses of scotch, handing one to me.

“Marcus Sterling thinks he’s won,” Claire said, leaning against the dark mahogany desk. “He thinks that by forcing Grant to give up his remaining nine percent, he can gain a foothold in Vance-Grant Innovations.”

“Marcus always was too clever for his own good,” I said, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “He thought he was using Kayla to manipulate Grant. He didn't realize that I was tracking Kayla’s bank transactions three months before she ever met Marcus.”

Claire smiled grimly. “So Marcus played right into your hands.”

“Marcus is an arrogant predator,” I said. “He wanted my father’s technology patents. He thought Grant was the only hurdle in his way. He completely overlooked me because, just like Grant, he assumed a woman who had suffered miscarriages was broken and weak.”

I stood up, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rainy gardens.

“Is the team ready for tomorrow’s market opening?” I asked.

“Fully prepared,” Claire replied. “At 9:30 a.m., we execute the corporate name change. Vance-Grant Innovations will officially become Vance Global Technology. Simultaneously, we release the press package detailing Marcus Sterling’s illegal corporate espionage and bribery of company personnel.”

“And Kayla?”

“Kayla thought Marcus was going to marry her once the job was done,” Claire laughed softly. “She doesn't know that Marcus’s actual wife filed for a high-asset divorce in Connecticut yesterday afternoon, freezing all of Marcus’s personal assets.”

I took a slow sip of scotch. “A room full of venomous snakes always ends up eating each other. All you have to do is lock the door.”

My phone rang on the desk. The caller ID showed Grant’s name. It had been ringing every fifteen minutes for the past twelve hours.

I picked up the phone, answered, and put it on speaker.

“Naomi!” Grant’s frantic voice wailed through the speaker. “Naomi, please answer! Marcus is threatening to send me to prison! He owns my debts! He used Kayla to destroy me!”

“I know, Grant,” I said quietly.

“You know?!” he gasped. “Naomi, if you still have any love for me, please buy my debts from Marcus! Use the trust money! You can save me!”

“Grant,” I said, my voice filled with an absolute, terrifying calm. “Ten years ago, I saved you from poverty. Eight years ago, I saved your mother’s life. Six months ago, you threw me to the wolves because I couldn't give you a child.”

“I was wrong! I was blind!” he wept.