Chapter 3

"You're sure you want to do this?"

My lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman named Margot, slid the documents across the mahogany desk of my grandmother's—now my—Monaco estate.

"Absolutely."

The document was simple: a demand for an emergency board meeting at Sterling Industries, called by the company's largest shareholder.

Me.

Margot studied my face. "He'll fight you."

"Let him."

"He has resources—"

"I have 40% of his company and three years of financial records that show exactly how much money his CFO has been funneling to offshore accounts." I smiled. "His CFO also happens to be Victoria's father."

Margot's eyebrows rose. "You knew?"

"I noticed. There's a difference. Alexander thought I spent my days shopping and crying. I spent them learning every inch of his empire."

I had been invisible to him. Invisible people see everything.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I answered.

"Elara." Alexander's voice was ice and venom. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Reading the morning news. Lovely weather in Monaco, by the way."

"This isn't a game. You're destroying everything I've built—"

"Correction. I'm taking what's rightfully mine. My grandfather built Sterling Industries alongside yours. You just forgot that part of history when it became inconvenient."

Silence. Then, low and dangerous: "I'm coming to Monaco."

"I'll have the guest house prepared."

"Elara—"

"Oh, and Alexander? Victoria's father has been embezzling from you for six years. You might want to look into that before the SEC does."

I hung up.

Margot stared at me. "He's going to be furious."

"Good." I placed my hand on my stomach. "He should feel something for once."

That night, I stood on my villa's balcony, watching the Mediterranean waves crash against ancient rocks.

My grandmother had left me more than money. She had left me a letter.

*"My darling Elara, I watched you disappear into that man's shadow. I prayed you would find your fire again. If you're reading this, you finally have. Burn bright, my girl. Burn bright."*

Tears slid down my cheeks—not of sadness, but of release.

I had spent three years shrinking myself to fit into Alexander's world.

No more.

Tomorrow, he would arrive in Monaco expecting the meek contract wife who never raised her voice.