I picked Lily up and walked straight toward the hallway storage closet. David’s mockery chased me. “Where are you going? If you have an ounce of pride, get out of this house! Let’s see how you survive begging on the subway without my credit cards!”
I shut the closet door behind me, plunging us into darkness. I kicked aside a pile of old winter coats, pried up a loose floorboard I had loosened years ago, and pulled out an unbranded, jet-black satellite phone featuring military-grade encryption.
I pressed my thumb to the biometric scanner. The screen flared to life. I dialed a number I hadn’t touched in over two thousand days.
It was answered on the first ring.
“Madam,” a raspy, deeply respectful British voice resonated through the speaker.
“Arthur,” I said, my voice steady. “Where is my father?”
“Richard Sterling is currently at the Grand Aster Hotel, personally overseeing the preparations for tonight’s billionaire gala. Madam… have you finally decided to reach out to us?”
I looked down at my daughter, who had fallen asleep against my shoulder, exhausted by the pain. A lethal, terrifying fire ignited in my chest.
“Tell the old man his heiress is done playing hide-and-seek. I am coming back. Activate all family resources in New York immediately. Sever every financial artery connected to the Thorne Group. I want David Thorne paralyzed before sunset.”
A sharp intake of breath echoed on the line, followed by Arthur’s voice, trembling with suppressed, ferocious excitement. “Understood, Madam. I will inform Mr. Sterling at once. Welcome home.”
I slipped the phone into my pocket and pushed out of the closet. David was busy helping his wailing mother off the floor. Seeing me emerge with Lily, he sneered and tossed a thick manila folder onto the glass coffee table.
“Since you’ve suddenly grown a spine, we’re done. Here is the prenup and the divorce papers. You leave with absolutely nothing. Sign it and get the hell out. But the kid stays.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “Leave Lily? Why?”
“Chloe needs a flower girl to carry the train of her dress at the Grand Aster reception tonight,” David stated casually, waving a dismissive hand. “Your brat is slow, but if we scrub the blood off her and put her in a decent dress, she’ll do. When the reception is over, you can come pick up this dead weight.”
Make a five-year-old child, who just had her teeth knocked out, carry the train of the woman who assaulted her.
My lungs seized. I slowly walked to the table, picked up the silver pen, flipped directly to the last page, and signed my name with a vicious, sweeping stroke.
I threw the documents back into his chest. “David, are you absolutely certain you’re going to the reception at the Grand Aster tonight? What does social trash like you want to do there? Embarrass yourself?”
David arrogantly adjusted his tie. “That is an exclusive, closed-door event hosted by the Wall Street titan, Richard Sterling. People like you aren’t even allowed to step on the welcome mat outside.”
“Good,” I whispered, my eyes burning into his. “Remember what you just said.”
I adjusted my grip on Lily and walked out the front doors of the mansion without looking back. Behind me, Martha screamed curses through her shattered teeth, and David laughed his contemptuous laugh.
Let them laugh. One shouldn’t waste emotions on dead men walking.
As the crisp autumn wind hit my face, I realized my greatest tragedy hadn’t been poverty. It had been losing myself in a rotting, parasitic relationship. But the housewife was dead. The empress was awake. And she was ready to burn their world to the ground.
Chapter 2: The First Domino
Two days later. The most exclusive sanctuary in Connecticut, the ultra-private Serenity Wellness Club.
The club operated on a draconian membership system. The initiation fee alone was $300,000, requiring extensive background checks and liquid asset verification.
Chloe, dressed head-to-toe in loud, seasonal Chanel, wearing oversized sunglasses and towering stilettos, strutted haughtily into the marble lobby. Flanked by two sycophantic assistant consultants, she was preparing for the billionaire gala at the Grand Aster. Naturally, she required the full suite of luxury spa treatments.
“Open the Grand VIP suite for me,” Chloe commanded, slipping off her sunglasses to glare at the concierge. “Use the imported Moroccan oils. Thorne is paying.”
The floor manager, a man accustomed to catering to the whims of the ultra-rich, rushed forward with a practiced, fawning smile. But as Chloe pivoted toward the private elevators, she caught sight of a figure in the secluded lounge area.
Sitting with my back to her, I wore a simple white button-down shirt and zero makeup. I was quietly sipping black tea while flipping through a copy of Vogue Business.
Chloe stopped dead. She squinted, and upon recognizing my silhouette, her lips twisted into a malicious, triumphant sneer.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” she crowed, swaying her hips as she approached. “Kate? Did the sun rise in the west today? Do they let broke losers like you into Serenity now, or did you come here to apply for a janitor position?”
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t stop turning the glossy pages of my magazine.
Chloe exploded at being ignored. “Manager!” she shrieked, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. “How are you running this place? This is a top-tier club! Why are you letting mutts in here? If she gets her cheap dirt on the Persian rug, can you afford it? Throw her out immediately!”
The manager glanced at the back of my head, and a sheen of cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead.
Two days prior, the true, hidden ultimate owner of the club—a subsidiary of Sterling Holdings—had issued the strictest directive in the establishment’s history. An incredibly high-ranking guest will visit. Even if she only asks for a glass of tap water, she is to be served like a reigning monarch.
The manager completely ignored Chloe’s screeching. He took three massive, hurried strides toward my couch and bowed deeply, showing profound respect and palpable, vibrating fear.
“Miss Sterling,” he stammered slightly. “Is the AC bothering you? Is the tea not to your liking? Shall I have the executive chef prepare some fresh hors d’oeuvres?”
Chloe was dumbfounded. Her jaw went slack. “Manager, are you blind? Her name is Kate! She’s a broke, dumped housewife that David just threw out onto the street! And you’re sucking up to her? I’m calling David right now. He’s going to cancel his membership and pull his investments from this dump!”
I finally closed the magazine, the heavy paper making a soft thud. I slowly turned around. There wasn’t a trace of emotion in my eyes. I just calmly watched this plastic woman jumping around like a frantic clown.
“David’s investments?” I murmured, picking up my porcelain teacup. I took a small sip, discussing millions as casually as one discusses the weather. “Are you quite sure his card can even be charged a single red cent right now?”
Chloe’s heart visibly skipped a beat. A dark premonition flickered in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with a cold, abrasive laugh. “Stop pretending to be something you’re not! David is about to secure a billion-dollar investment tonight! Our Thorne Group is about to enter New York’s absolute elite. And you, a beggar who can’t even afford bread, dare to curse us?”
I was too bored to even look at her anymore. I quietly set the teacup down on the glass saucer.
Clink.
The soft sound was like a starting pistol to the manager. He understood instantly. He stood up straight, the reverence on his face evaporating into glacial hostility as he turned to face Chloe.
“Ma’am, since you are screaming and seriously disturbing the peace of our most VIP guest, I am officially notifying you: your membership is permanently revoked.”
“What did you say?” Chloe’s eyes bulged against her heavy eyelash extensions. “How dare you! I have the Black VIP card! David deposited three hundred thousand dollars onto it just yesterday!”
“I am very sorry,” the manager stated, his face carved from stone. “But exactly three minutes ago, all of Mr. Thorne’s credit cards and corporate accounts were completely frozen by the SEC and the Federal Reserve.”
Chloe staggered back a step.
