The speedometer read 105 mph. The trees on the side of the Hamptons highway were a green blur.

Dosha gripped the handle above the door. Her knuckles were white.

Casper stared straight ahead. His grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to snap the leather. He was furious. Not because she tried to leave, but because his mother had tried to take something that belonged to him.

The car's Bluetooth system chimed. Incoming Call: Charlie.

Casper didn't tap the screen to decline fast enough. The call connected.

"Casper!" Charlie's voice boomed through the surround sound speakers. "Dude, Sienna is loving the necklace! She's posting stories from the yacht. She wants to know when you're coming over?"

The air in the car turned solid.

Dosha looked out the window. A bitter smile touched her lips.

"And hey," Charlie continued, oblivious. "Did the invisible wife freak out? Giving Sienna three mil and the wife fifty grand... that is savage, man. You are cold."

Casper hit the End Call button. The silence that followed was louder than the engine.

"So everyone knows," Dosha said softly. "The market value is public knowledge."

Casper slammed on the brakes. The car skidded, tires screeching on the asphalt, pulling onto the gravel shoulder.

He turned to her. His eyes were black pits.

"Shut up. You almost cost me fifty percent of my voting rights back there."

"You tore up my freedom!" Dosha yelled. "That was my money!"

"Is that all you are?" Casper shouted back. "A ledger? A balance sheet?"

"Yes!" Dosha screamed. "Because that's all you made me! What else is there? Do you want me to love you? While you buy diamonds for your mistress?"

Casper flinched. The truth hit him like a physical blow. He unlocked the doors.

"Get out."

Dosha blinked. "What?"

"Get out of the car."

"We are twenty miles from the city. It's about to rain."

"Walk," Casper said. "Think about your ROI while you walk."

Dosha looked at him. She saw the cruelty in his jaw. She realized, finally, that there was no bottom to this.

She grabbed her purse. She opened the door.

Asset, in the back seat, whined and tried to scramble forward to follow her.

Casper hit the central lock button. The back doors clicked shut.

"No," Casper said. "The dog stays."

Dosha stood on the side of the road. "Casper, give me the dog."

He didn't look at her. He floored the gas pedal. The car shot forward, kicking up gravel and dust, leaving her standing alone in the sudden silence.

A drop of rain hit her cheek. Then another.

Dosha took off her heels. She held them in one hand. She stepped onto the rough asphalt with her bare feet.

She started walking.

Dosha pushed open the door to the casting studio in Manhattan.

She looked like a shipwreck. Her hair was plastered to her skull. Her dress was ruined, stained with mud and rain. There was a band-aid on her heel where the asphalt had chewed through her skin.

The room went quiet.

Sloan was there, of course. She was wearing a pristine white dress, her hair blown out to perfection. She took one look at Dosha and laughed.

"Wow," Sloan said. "Method acting a hobo today, Mrs. Stuart?"

Dosha didn't even look at her. Her eyes were hollow. She had walked for three hours before a truck driver had pulled over. She felt feverish.

Lily, the casting assistant, ran over. "Oh my god, Dosha. What happened? I have spare clothes in the back."

"No," Dosha croaked. "I'm ready."

"Dosha Young!" the casting director called out.

Dosha walked into the audition room. Zachary sat behind a table. He looked tired.

"Okay," Zachary said, looking at her appearance with confusion. "The scene is... a woman who has been betrayed. She has lost everything. She is on the edge of a breakdown. Are you ready?"

Dosha didn't answer. She sat in the single metal chair in the center of the room.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably.

She uncapped it. She started to apply it.

She missed her lips. The red wax dragged across her cheek. She kept going. She applied it to her chin. To her nose.

Tears started to slide down her face, mixing with the rain and the lipstick. She didn't make a sound. She just stared into the camera lens with eyes that had seen the end of the world. It was a look of absolute, crushing desolation.

Zachary stopped writing. The room was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioner.

Dosha dropped the lipstick. It rolled across the floor.

"Scene," she whispered.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand. The madness vanished from her eyes, replaced by a cold, hard clarity.

"Thank you."

She stood up and walked out.

Zachary scrambled up from his chair. He ran into the hallway.

"Dosha! Wait!"

Dosha stopped. Sloan was watching, waiting for the rejection.

"That was..." Zachary struggled for words. "That was terrifying. The role is yours. The pay is scale. And Casper might sue me."

"I'll take it," Dosha said. "Just cut the check."

Sloan's jaw dropped.

Lily burst into tears. "We did it!"

Dosha leaned against the wall. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her dizzy. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She pulled it out. A text from Casper.

Where are you? Asset won't eat.

Dosha stared at the words. He didn't ask if she was okay. He didn't ask if she made it home. He asked about the dog.

She typed back: I'm working. Let Sienna feed him.

She turned off her phone.

"Lily," she said, her voice weak. "Take me to the hospital. And then find me a lawyer. I want to find a loophole in that NDA."

"You're going to fight?" Lily asked.

Dosha looked at the rain streaking the windows.

"No," she said. "I'm going to resurrect."

The IV drip counted out the seconds. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Dosha lay on the sofa in the penthouse. The elevator chimed softly. Moments later, a frantic-looking Liam appeared, holding Asset's leash. The dog bounded forward, whining, and leaped onto the sofa with Dosha. "Mr. Stuart said... he said the dog was a distraction," Liam stammered, avoiding her gaze. "He told me to bring him back. He hasn't eaten." Liam placed a bag from a pharmacy on the table. "And Mr. Stuart also sent this. A vitamin injection. He says you need to be well for tonight." Asset was curled into a tight ball against her stomach, his head resting on her ribs.

Harper was sitting on the coffee table, peeling an apple with a paring knife. She was angry.

"Do you know where she is?" Harper asked, slicing a piece of apple aggressively. "Do you know where he moved her?"

"I don't care," Dosha said, her eyes closed.

"Rosewood," Harper said. "He moved Sienna into the Rosewood Estate."

Dosha's eyes snapped open.

Rosewood was the ancestral home. It was where Casper's grandmother had lived. By family decree, only the legal wife was allowed to reside there.

It was a public declaration of war. It was Casper telling the world that Dosha was irrelevant.

Dosha sat up. She ripped the tape off her hand and pulled out the IV needle. A drop of blood welled up.

"Help me up," she said.

The television in the corner was tuned to a financial news network. The anchor's voice was urgent.

Breaking News: Internal shakeup at Stuart Holdings. Sebastian Stuart, the exiled cousin, has returned to New York after three years in London.

A photo flashed on the screen. It was blurry, taken at JFK. A tall man in a trench coat, dark hair, walking away from the camera.

"Oh god," Harper gasped. "The crazy cousin? The one who tried to burn down the headquarters?"

Dosha stared at the screen. She remembered Sebastian. Two years ago, at her wedding, he was the only one who hadn't congratulated her. He had leaned in and whispered, It's a trap, darling.

The front door opened.

Casper walked in. He looked frazzled. His tie was loosened.

He saw Harper and scowled. "Get out."

Harper looked at Dosha. Dosha nodded. Harper left, closing the door softly.

Casper walked over to the sofa. He didn't ask about the IV bag.

"There is a family dinner tonight," he said. "Sebastian is back."

Dosha laughed. It was a dry, raspy sound. "So? You need me to play the happy wife? You need me to show Sebastian that your flank is secure?"

Casper ran a hand through his hair. "Exactly. He is here for the voting rights. If he senses weakness, he will attack. If my assets shrink, your alimony shrinks. So get dressed."

Dosha looked at him. She saw the fear in his eyes. He was terrified of Sebastian. The fever and exhaustion were a heavy cloak, but underneath, a cold clarity was forming. This was leverage.

"I'm sick, Casper," she said, leaning back against the cushions. "If you want me to go, the price has gone up."

"You are blackmailing me?"

"I am negotiating," Dosha said. "I want Sienna out of Rosewood. Tonight."

Casper hesitated. Evicting Sienna now would be a nightmare. She would scream. She would leak stories.

But Sebastian was the bigger threat.

"Fine," Casper gritted out. "She will be gone by morning."

"Now," Dosha said. "Call your property manager. Put it on speaker."

Casper glared at her. But he pulled out his phone. He made the call. He gave the order.

Dosha listened to the confirmation. She smiled.

"Deal," she said.

She stood up, her legs shaky but holding. She looked at the image of Sebastian on the TV screen.

Casper went to his study to make more calls.

Dosha petted Asset's head. "Showtime," she whispered.