Chapter 2

Dominic Sterling's office sat at the top of a tower made entirely of black glass, like something carved out of the night itself. No art. No photos. Just a skyline and a desk that radiated cold authority.

He didn't stand when I walked in. He didn't offer his hand. He simply looked up from a stack of documents, and those slate-gray eyes pinned me in place like a blade through silk.

"Ms. Reyes." His voice was flat, unimpressed. "You claimed ninety million in internal fraud. My analysts spent six months trying to crack your firm last year. They found nothing."

I set my tablet on his desk and turned the screen toward him.

"That's because your analysts audited the books. They didn't audit the man who keeps them."

For the next eight minutes, I walked him through everything. Every shell company Marcus had built. Every forged signature. Every wire transfer routed through Cayman accounts that bled my firm dry one quiet payment at a time.

I knew every number. Every date. Every account.

Because in my last life, I'd discovered all of it—forty minutes before my brakes failed.

Dominic leaned back. His expression never moved. The man's face was carved from something harder than the building he sat in.

"How do you have this," he said. "These transfers haven't even happened yet. Half these accounts won't be opened for months."

I didn't blink. "I'm a very thorough auditor."

A beat of silence.

"You're also married to Marcus Hale." He said it like a stock quote. "Your CFO. The architect of every transaction you just showed me."

"For now," I said. "By tonight, I'll be filing for divorce. And by next quarter, I'll be filing his name with the SEC."

Something shifted behind those gray eyes. Not warmth. Dominic Sterling didn't do warmth. Interest. The focused, predatory interest of a man who'd just spotted a loaded weapon lying in the grass.

"What do you want, Ms. Reyes? Money? Protection? A buyer for your shares before the whole thing collapses?"

"I want a war chest," I said. "I want capital to lock down my majority stake before Marcus can move another dollar. I want a partner with the firepower to freeze his accounts the second he tries to run. And I want it structured so that when this is over, Reyes Capital is still mine. Every share. Every floor."

His eyebrow rose a fraction. "That's a significant ask from a woman whose company is hemorrhaging."

I picked up my tablet and stood. "Mr. Sterling, in eighteen months I'll be the most powerful woman in this city, and you'll wish you'd asked for more than a finder's fee. What I just showed you is good faith. The rest, I'll prove with a balance sheet."

The silence stretched. He studied me the way he studied companies before he gutted them—looking for cracks, bluffs, weaknesses.

He found none.

"My lawyers will have terms to you by Friday," he said. "Capital line of fifty million, secured against your majority position. And Ms. Reyes—" his voice dropped half a register. "Marcus doesn't know you came to me."

It wasn't a question.

"No," I said, hand on the door. "And when he finds out, it's going to be the worst day of his life."

I could have sworn I heard something behind me. Not a laugh. Dominic Sterling didn't seem like a man who laughed. More like the sharp exhale of a predator catching a scent.

I walked out into the blinding afternoon. My phone was already detonating—eleven missed calls from Marcus, a string of texts climbing from confused to furious.

I blocked him.

Then I called my younger brother, Theo.

"Cass? You okay? You sound—"

"Nothing's wrong, Theo. For the first time, everything's right." I slid into my car and caught my own reflection. The exhaustion of a past life of betrayal was gone. My gaze was clear, sharp, and absolutely lethal. "I need a favor. Cancel the anniversary trip Marcus booked. Freeze the joint household account. And don't tell him you talked to me."

"Cass, what is going on—"

"I'll explain tonight. Right now I need you to trust me."

A pause. Then, quietly: "Always."

I hung up and started the engine.

Monday's board meeting was going to be a bloodbath.