Chapter 6

The invitation arrived on thick, cream-colored cardstock, embossed with the logo of a new hedge fund I’d never heard of.

A launch party at the a winehouse Black tie.

Derek’s name was listed as a host.

Of course it was.

My phone buzzed with a text from Sarah. Darling, you simply MUST come! Derek’s been asking about you. This is his big night. Let’s put the past behind us?Followed by three champagne flute emojis.

A cold smile touched my lips. The past was a ghost they were about to meet face-to-face.

I had been waiting for this. A public stage. An audience of the very people whose opinion they craved.

“Decline,” Luke said, frowning at the invitation on my kitchen island. His first official day, and he was already in full protective mode. “Large crowds. Uncontrolled environment. It’s a security nightmare.”

“It’s a necessity,” I corrected, stroking Zeus who was watching us with his unsettling green eyes. “Some threats need to be cut out cleanly, before they fester. Publicly.”

He studied my face, reading the resolve there. He gave a single, curt nod. “Then I’m your shadow.”

The night of the party, I wore a deceptively simple black gown that cost more than Derek’s first-year bonus. It was armor. Luke, in a tailored tuxedo that did little to hide the predator’s grace beneath, was my weapon.

The ballroom was a glittering cage of ambition and false laughter. I saw them immediately.

Derek, already flushed with triumph and champagne, holding court near the bar. Sarah, draped in silver silk, her laugh a little too sharp, her eyes scanning the room for higher-value targets.

Their eyes found me, and the performance began.

“Viv! You came!” Sarah air-kissed my cheeks, the scent of her perfume cloying. “You look… well.”

Derek approached, oozing manufactured charm. “Vivian. The star of the evening has arrived.” His gaze slid over me, a proprietary once-over that made my skin crawl. “I’m glad you’re here to see this. Big things are happening. Maybe we can talk later? About… old times. New opportunities.”

Opportunities.The word he’d used when he’d convinced me to invest my parents’ money in his first doomed venture. The word he’d used right before the betrayal.

“Actually,” I said, my voice carrying just enough to turn a few nearby heads. “I heard about your new fund, Derek. ‘Apex Convergence.’ Bold name. I’ve been looking at your proposed holdings.”

His smile widened, condescending. “Getting back into the game? I’d be happy to advise.”

“Oh, I’ve been in the game,” I said sweetly. I reached into my clutch and pulled out not a lipstick, but a single folded sheet of paper. “I was just reviewing some of the pre-launch trades. The ones linked to your offshore shell company. The ones that seem to have perfectly anticipated the FTC’s announcement about the Biocore merger… three days before it was public.”

The air around us went very still. The clink of glasses sounded like gunshots.

Derek’s face drained of color. “What is this? Some kind of joke?”

“It’s a printout,” I said calmly, unfolding the paper. It showed a complex web of transactions, dates, and account numbers. All of it fake, of course. Meticulously fabricated. But the seed of truth—the Biocore merger—was real. And the implication was a nuclear bomb in the world of finance. Insider trading. Securities fraud.

“You’re insane,” he hissed, trying to snatch the paper. Luke’s hand closed around his wrist, stopping him cold. The movement was smooth, almost invisible, but the message was received by everyone watching.

“The SEC might think otherwise,” I said, my voice dropping to a conversational tone that somehow carried further. “I’m sure they’d love to see the full audit trail. Especially the funds that mysteriously filtered through that account in the Caymans. The one Sarah’s name is also on.”

Sarah’s perfect smile shattered. “What? No! That’s a lie!”

I turned my glacial smile on her. “Is it? The one you’ve been using to pay off those… interesting photographers? The ones with all the pictures from your ‘yoga retreats’ in St. Barts? The ones featuring someone who is very much not your husband?”

A gasp went through the immediate circle. This was a different kind of crime, one punished not by law, but by the vicious, unforgiving court of society.

The glittering crowd drew back from them as if they were contagious. I saw the future in their horrified, fascinated eyes: Derek, disgraced, investigated, his career ash. Sarah, divorced, ostracized, a pariah.

The vengeance was perfect, surgical, and complete.

I leaned in close to Derek, who was now sweating profusely. “You took everything from me once,” I whispered, the words for him alone. “Now you have nothing. Enjoy the party. It’s the last one you’ll ever be invited to.”

I turned, Luke falling into step beside me, a wall of silent strength. We left them standing in the center of a widening circle of silence and scandal.

In the elevator down, the adrenaline bled away, leaving a hollow satisfaction.

“The paper,” Luke said, his voice a low rumble. “The evidence. Was it real?”

I met his gaze in the polished brass of the elevator doors. “Does it matter?”

He was silent for a long moment. Then, the barest hint of a grim, approving smile touched his lips. “No, ma’am. I suppose it doesn’t.”

Back in the penthouse, I stood at the window, the city’s lights mocking the darkness to come. The old score was settled. A clean, vicious break from the past.

Zeus padded over and rubbed against my leg, a tiny static shock snapping in the quiet room.

I had removed a tumor. I had secured my soldier.

I was ready.

But as I looked down at the oblivious city, a new, more chilling thought slithered into the hollow space the vengeance had left.

Derek and Sarah were broken, yes.

But broken people, with nothing left to lose, were the most dangerous kind of all.

And I had just made two very public, very humiliated enemies, right before the end of the world.