"My husband paraded his mistress through my billionaire father’s company gala to humiliate me—until I walked in wearing a red dress and my father stepped up to Ethan, extended his hand, and demanded his company badge in front of three hundred executives."

At 11:00 AM, I walked into the private law offices of Maddox & Vance in downtown Chicago.

Sitting in the glass-walled interrogation room was Vanessa. She was dressed in a rumpled tracksuit, her designer makeup smeared, her blonde hair messy. Across from her sat her frantic court-appointed attorney, struggling to review the mountain of evidence the State’s Attorney had assembled against her.

When I opened the door and walked inside, flanked by Helen Maddox, Vanessa whipped her head around, her eyes flashing with a sudden, vicious rage.

“You!” Vanessa shrieked, slamming her hands against the metal table. “You ruined my life! You froze my bank accounts! You had the police kick me out of my apartment!”

I walked over to the table and sat down calmly in the chair opposite her, crossing my legs.

“The penthouse didn't belong to you, Vanessa,” I said softly. “It was purchased with stolen funds from Hayes Meridian Group and my mother’s private trust.”

“Ethan bought that apartment for me!” Vanessa yelled, her voice pitching up hysterically. “He loved me! He promised me he was going to take over your father’s company and make me the head of corporate marketing!”

“Ethan lied to you,” I corrected cleanly. “Just like he lied to me. He used your maiden name on the Delaware shell company accounts so that if the fraud was ever discovered, you would take the primary criminal fall.”

Vanessa froze. Her eyes widened in terror as she looked at her defense attorney. “What? What is she talking about?!”

Helen Maddox stepped forward, placing a sheet of paper on the metal table.

“This is Ethan Vance’s preliminary statement signed an hour ago in his holding cell,” Helen explained smoothly. “In exchange for a reduced sentence on the corporate fraud counts, Ethan has agreed to state under oath that you were the mastermind behind the Delaware shell company scheme and that you coerced him into transferring the four point two million dollars.”

Vanessa’s face drained of every drop of color. She looked at the signature at the bottom of the page—Ethan’s distinct, elegant handwriting—and collapsed back into her chair as if she had been hit by a truck.

“He… he blamed me?” Vanessa whispered, tears finally overflowing her eyelashes, cutting tracks down her pale cheeks. “He told me he would protect me… he told me I was his future…”

“Ethan protects only one person, Vanessa,” I said, standing up from my chair, adjusting my coat. “Ethan. He paraded you at that gala to feed his ego, and the moment his career exploded, he threw you to the wolves to save his own skin.”