MY HUSBAND THREW ME AND OUR NEWBORN TWINS INTO THE SNOW—THEN HE LEARNED I OWNED HIS HOUSE, HIS JOB, AND THE SECRET THAT COULD DESTROY HIM

By 2:00 AM, the command center was buzzing with new intelligence.

Marcus’s intercept protocols had successfully tapped into the communication lines registered to the Harrington estate.

"We have an audio feed, Ms. Vale," one of the technicians announced, handing me a pair of headphones.

I put them on.

The sound of heavy breathing and frantic pacing filled the speakers, followed by the sharp click of a glass hitting a table.

"You don't understand!" Thomas’s voice exploded through the line, strained and ragged. "She has the files! I don't know how she got them, but she has everything!"

A smooth, calculated voice responded from the other end of the call.

It was an unknown male voice, deep and devoid of emotion.

"You were told to manage her, Thomas. Your entire purpose was to keep the Vale heiress complacent until the merger was finalized. You failed."

"She was supposed to be broken!" Thomas shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "I threw her out into the storm with the kids! I thought she would crawl to a hotel, panic, and sign the separation agreement just to get her life back! I didn't think her personal security detail would bypass the estate jamming arrays!"

"You underestimated the Vale family infrastructure," the voice replied coldly. "The assets are frozen. The Harrington Luxe accounts are being audited by federal authorities as we speak. You are no longer an asset to us, Thomas. You are a liability."

"No, wait!" Thomas pleaded, and for the first time, I heard pure, unadulterated terror in his voice. "I can still fix this! I have the proxy votes from the minority shareholders! If I can get to the board meeting tomorrow, I can still push the merger through!"

"There is no tomorrow for you at Vale International," the voice said. "Goodbye, Thomas."

The line went dead with a sharp beep.

I took off the headphones, my hands perfectly steady.

"Who was he talking to?" I asked Marcus.

"We traced the routing," Marcus said, looking at his screen. "The call went through a series of scrambled satellite relays, but the ultimate destination was a private server owned by Vance Holdings—a shadow company registered in Delaware. It seems Thomas wasn't working alone. He had backers. People who wanted to hostilely take over Vale International from the inside out."

"They wanted to use him as a puppet to hollow out my father’s legacy," I said, a dangerous calm settling over me.

"Yes," Marcus said. "But his backers have clearly abandoned him. He’s completely isolated now."

"Not entirely," I murmured, watching the live video feed of the Harrington mansion.

On the screen, a lone figure was walking down the driveway, a suitcase in hand, leaving the house behind.

It was Vivian.

She was fleeing the sinking ship.

"Let her go," I ordered Marcus. "She’s irrelevant now. Thomas is the one who needs to face the music."

"What is your move, Ms. Vale?" Marcus asked.

"He thinks he can still use the minority proxy votes tomorrow," I said, walking toward the nursery to check on my children once more before morning. "Let him think that. Let him show up to the board meeting. I want him to believe he still has a chance to win."