"David Weiss!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "Is this the dignity you promised me? That woman you married is flaunting her kept man, and now his trashy family has taken over your home? Divorce Mila. Immediately. I would rather see you alone forever than tethered to that disgrace."

Cold fire spread through my chest. I hung up and marched toward the garage, intent on clearing the vermin personally.

My parking spot was empty.

I stared at the vacant slab. A vein pulsed in my temple.

"Pull the surveillance," I ordered security.

The footage confirmed it. Ryan's smug face filled the screen as he unlocked my car and drove off, laughing.

I turned to the guard. "Call the police. Grand theft auto."

He blinked. "But... sir, Ms. Galloway gave him the keys..."

I rested a hand on his shoulder. "Report the theft, or pack your things. Decide now."

He scrambled for his phone.

I signaled my assistant. "Take me to the penthouse."

In the backseat, I pulled up the live feed from the villa. My jaw clenched.

Josephine Delgado was parading through my living room wearing my mother's vintage silk nightgown. Barking orders at the staff. When a maid hesitated, Josephine kicked her.

"What are you staring at? Do your job, you wretches!" Josephine screeched, reclining on my leather sofa. "I am the mistress of this house now."

I dialed the precinct directly.

"Yes, I'd like to report a break-in and trespassing."

Ryan was already in a holding cell. Only right to send his mother to join him. A family should stick together.

I tapped my earpiece. "Monitor the situation. Itemize everything that woman touched, ate, or wore. I want full compensation for every item."

"Understood, Mr. Weiss."

"Not a penny less."

I retreated to my downtown penthouse, a sanctuary Mila rarely bothered to visit. I shed my jacket, loosened my tie, and poured a glass of whiskey.

Two sips in, the front door slammed open.

Mila stormed in, eyes blazing. She grabbed a crystal vase from the console table and hurled it at me.

I sidestepped. The crystal shattered against the wall.

"David Weiss, are you fucking insane?" she shrieked. "Why did you call the police on Ryan and his mother? They didn't steal anything! How dare you have them arrested?"

Her voice was shrill. She looked deranged—hair wild, face flushed with misplaced righteousness.

I swirled the whiskey, watching the liquid catch the light.

I didn't even look at her.