“Stolen,” Arthur confirmed. “From a researcher named Dr. Caldwell. He bankrupted her lab and took the intellectual property.”
Cold fury settled in Elena’s stomach.
Marcus wasn’t just a terrible husband.
He was a fraud. A criminal wrapped in an Armani suit.
“The signing ceremony is Friday at Obsidian Tower,” Elena said. “He wants me there to sign a final NDA—waiving my marital rights to company shares in exchange for the fifty thousand.”
“Then we’ll go,” Arthur said, sipping his black coffee. “But you won’t go as the ex-wife.”
The days leading up to Friday became a blur of shadow games.
Elena contacted Maggie, her law school roommate and a shark in forensic accounting. Together they mapped the labyrinth of Marcus’s fraud.
They found emails where he mocked the very board members he manipulated.
They found bank transfers to his mistress, Jessica, labeled “Consulting Fees.”
Thursday night Marcus texted Elena:
Make sure you dress appropriately tomorrow. Try not to look like a charity case. The President of Helios is very particular.
Elena stared at the screen.
The arrogance was suffocating.
He truly believed he was untouchable.
He believed the “gardener’s daughter” couldn’t understand his complex world.
He had no idea the man he was trying to impress was the same man he had mocked for having dirt under his fingernails.
The morning of the ceremony arrived.
Obsidian Tower buzzed with press.
Marcus sat at the head of the massive boardroom table, flanked by Jessica and his corrupt board chairman. He looked like a king.
When Elena entered, she wasn’t wearing the rumpled clothes Marcus expected.
She wore a razor-sharp tailored crimson suit that radiated authority.
She didn’t look at Marcus.
She simply walked to the opposite end of the table and sat down.
“I’m glad you could make it, Elena,” Marcus said with a tight smile. “Just sign the papers at the end of the table so we can move on to the real business. The President of Helios will be here any minute.”
“I’m not in a hurry, Marcus,” Elena replied coolly. “I think I’ll wait for the President.”
Marcus rolled his eyes.
“He’s an industry titan, Elena. He doesn’t have time for your little pity party.”
The double doors swung open.
“Actually,” a deep, familiar voice boomed from the entrance, “I have all the time in the world for her.”
Marcus turned, a flattering smile plastered on his face, ready to greet the billionaire savior.
His smile froze.