"He abandoned me in labor for his mistress's son—7 years later, he screamed 'DON'T!' as I held the mic beside his secret daughter."

Inside the two-thousand-square-foot luxury suite, a peaceful, weightless quiet settled over the room.

Emily sat on the plush velvet sofa in her cozy pajamas, happily eating hot chocolate and cookies provided by room service while watching an animated movie on the flat screen.

Sitting across from me at the marble coffee table was my lead attorney and closest friend, Madison Parker, who had managed my divorce and estate affairs for seven years.

Madison set down a thick leather binder bound by red judicial seals.

"The public fallout for the Moretti Syndicate is total, Claire," Madison reported smoothly, her eyes gleaming with sharp professional satisfaction. "The footage of Vincent groveling on stage has circulated across every financial network. Shares in Moretti Logistics dropped eighteen percent in after-hours trading."

I took a slow sip of my chamomile tea, my mind calm, steady, and unbroken.

"What is Sophia doing?" I asked flatly.

"Sophia and your mother are in a panic," Madison revealed with a cold chuckle. "They realize that if Vincent transfers equity to Emily, Lucas’s share of the family trust will be cut in half. Sophia has spent the last two hours meeting privately with the Genovese Syndicate at the South Side docks."

My brow furrowed slightly. "The Genovese family?"

"Yes," Madison nodded. "Don Marco Genovese has been trying to seize Vincent’s shipping terminals for a decade. Sophia is desperate enough to offer him internal security codes in exchange for getting rid of you and Emily before the legal trusts are updated."

Before I could respond, three slow, heavy knocks sounded at the suite's double mahogany doors.

Madison stood up, signaling to two private security operators standing near the foyer.

The doors opened smoothly.

Standing on the threshold, carrying no weapons and flanked by zero guards, was Vincent Moretti.

His dark tuxedo jacket was gone, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark hair disheveled, and his storm-gray eyes bloodshot and filled with an unbearable, agonizing remorse.