Chapter 3

"Daddy, it's Katherine."

My father's voice was thick with sleep when he answered my call to his New York penthouse at 3 AM.

"Katherine? Sweetheart, it's the middle of the night there. What's wrong?"

"Jonathan's been having an affair for two years, and I need you to pull your investment from his company immediately."

The silence stretched across three thousand miles while my father processed what I'd just told him.

"How much proof do you have?"

This was exactly why I called him first—my father thought like the ruthless businessman he was, not just an emotional parent.

"Twenty-seven thousand messages, photos, financial records of hotels and gifts, restaurant receipts. Everything."

"I'll have my lawyers start the withdrawal process first thing in the morning. How much do you need for legal fees?"

I remembered the humiliation I'd endured to get that initial investment—sitting in his Manhattan office while my stepmother sneered about "throwing good money after bad ideas," my stepbrother calling Jonathan a "pretty face with no business sense," enduring their condescension because I believed in my husband's dream.

"I don't need money yet. I need him destroyed."

"Consider it done. Come home, Katherine. Bring Lily. You don't have to fight this battle alone."

After dropping Lily at school the next morning, painting on a smile while my heart was breaking, I parked across from Jonathan's office building and waited.

Twenty-three minutes later, I saw them together for the first time.

Jonathan held the door of his BMW open for a petite blonde in a red dress that probably cost more than my monthly grocery budget, his hand lingering possessively on the small of her back as she slipped inside.

So this was Madeline.

I followed at a careful distance, my heart pounding with a mixture of rage and determination, as they drove to an exclusive neighborhood I couldn't afford on my freelance writing income.

The house was stunning—modern architecture, floor-to-ceiling windows, clearly purchased with money that should have gone to our family's future.

Through my telephoto lens, I watched them through those enormous windows like actors on a stage.

She was wearing lingerie now, red lace that matched her dress, moving through what should have been our dream home like she owned it.

He kissed her neck as she poured expensive wine into crystal glasses.

Click. Click. Click.

Every photo was another nail in his coffin.

When I returned home that evening, Jonathan was waiting in the kitchen, probably expecting tears and begging.

"We need to discuss the divorce terms," I said before he could speak, my voice steady as steel.

"I'm glad you're being reasonable about this, Katherine."

"I agree to the divorce, but not until after Lily's birthday party next week."

His relief was visible, and I could see him already planning his future with his precious Madeline.

"Of course. We should keep things stable for Lily during the transition."

"I'll need time to arrange some financial matters too."

He nodded eagerly, probably thinking I meant finding a new place to live or figuring out child support.

If only he knew I meant arranging the complete destruction of everything he'd built his pathetic new life on.