"Wait," Chloe whispered, her eyes darting to the next paragraph. "This says the remaining ten percent is absorbed by the board of directors."

"Hand me the paper!" Julian demanded.

Chloe backed away from him. "Julian, look at the bottom line. Your personal equity. It says zero. You own zero percent of Vance Tech."

The cathedral erupted. Five hundred guests broke into a chaotic roar of overlapping voices.

"Zero?" a board member in the third row shouted.

Julian stared at Chloe. The blood drained from his face, leaving him a sickly, pale gray.

"This is a mistake," Julian stammered.

"There is no mistake," I said.

He dropped his hands. He spun toward the center of the altar, reaching for the microphone stand.

"Listen to me!" Julian yelled into the mic, his voice echoing over the crowd. "This is a stunt!"

I stepped directly into his path.

He reached to shove me aside. I sidestepped, letting his own momentum carry him forward. He stumbled, his expensive dress shoes skidding on the polished marble.

Marcus stepped up beside me. He held out a thick, bound stack of papers.

I took the heavy file.

"You want to talk about stunts?" I asked.

I raised the stack of notarized asset liquidation documents.

I slammed them down onto the mahogany podium.

The heavy thud echoed through the speakers. The binding snapped on impact. Hundreds of pages exploded across the altar, fluttering down to the red carpet.

"Every single account," I announced, projecting my voice without the microphone. "Every property, every stock option, every offshore trust. Signed, sealed, and notarized."

Julian dropped to his knees. He snatched up a random page from the floor.

"My penthouse," he muttered, his eyes scanning the text.

"Deeded to the company," I replied.

He grabbed another sheet. "The Cayman accounts..."

"Frozen and reallocated."

Chloe stared at the scattered papers. She backed further away from him.

"You have nothing?" she asked, her tone entirely devoid of the sickly sweet affection she had used minutes ago.

"Chloe, wait," Julian pleaded, looking up from the floor. "My lawyers will fix this. I will fight her."

"With what money?" I asked.

"I pay a massive legal retainer!" Julian shouted.

"Mr. Vance," Marcus interjected, adjusting his glasses. "As of nine o'clock this morning, you no longer have legal representation. Our firm was retained by Vance Tech, not you personally."

"I built Vance Tech!" Julian screamed, his voice cracking. "My name is on the building!"

"Your name is on the lease," I corrected. "A lease I terminated an hour ago."

Chloe pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You told me you were invincible. You told me she was just a stepping stone!"

"She is a trust fund idiot!" Julian yelled.

"This idiot just took your entire life," I noted.

"What about my position?" Chloe asked, turning her glare on me. "I am still the marketing director."

"You were fired at nine-fifteen," I informed her.

"You have no right to fire me! I have a contract!"

"Your contract had a morality clause," Marcus stated smoothly. "Sleeping with the CEO constitutes a breach."

"He is not the CEO anymore!" Chloe argued.

"Which makes you entirely irrelevant," I replied.

Chloe stared at me, then down at her custom white silk gown.

"I paid thirty thousand dollars for this dress," she whispered.

"Put it on your tab," Julian snapped, scrambling to his feet.

"You said you were paying for it!"

"I do not have thirty thousand dollars!" Julian screamed at her.

The entire cathedral fell dead silent. The admission hung in the air, pathetic and final.

Julian realized what he had just yelled. He closed his eyes. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently near his ear.

"Harper, be reasonable," Julian said, lowering his voice so the front row could not hear. "We built this together."

"My family funded it. You just spent the profits."

"I am the face of the brand! The stock will tank without me."

"The stock rose twelve percent this morning when rumors of your departure leaked."

Julian flinched. The insult hit harder than a physical blow.

"You flew her to Paris on the company jet," I continued. "You bought her a diamond necklace with company funds."

"I will pay it back!"

"You lack the funds to pay it back."

Chloe gasped. "You used company money for my necklace?"

"Shut up, Chloe!" Julian barked.

"Is that why the police are going to be involved?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling. "Julian, did you commit fraud?"

"Nobody is calling the police!" Julian shouted.

"Actually," Marcus interrupted, checking his silver wristwatch. "The SEC has already been notified of the misappropriated funds."

Julian spun toward the lawyer. "You rat."

"I am fulfilling my fiduciary duty to the primary shareholder," Marcus replied.

Julian snapped. His polished facade shattered entirely.

He lunged forward and clamped his hand around my wrist.

A sickening layer of cold sweat coated his palm. His fingers dug into my skin, squeezing hard enough to grind my bones together. A sharp spike of pain shot up my arm.

"You set me up," he hissed, his face inches from mine.

"You set yourself up," I countered, keeping my expression perfectly neutral.

"I will destroy you, Harper."

I smiled coldly. I let out a short, hollow laugh.

I raised my free hand. I caught his thumb and bent it backward.

Julian gasped, his grip loosening just a fraction. I peeled his fingers off my wrist, one by one.

I shoved his hand away.

I looked down at my throbbing wrist, then at my pristine white silk skirt.

I wiped my skin against the expensive fabric, scrubbing away the feeling of his sweat in absolute disgust. I maintained eye contact the entire time.

"You disgust me," I said.

Julian’s face flushed a deep, violent purple. His chest heaved, straining the buttons of his tuxedo shirt.

"You arrogant bitch," he spat. "You think you can just throw me out of my own wedding?"

"It hasn't been your wedding for ten minutes," I said.

A sharp mechanical click echoed from the shadows behind the altar.

The heavy oak side doors swung open.

The hotel’s director of security stepped out. Ten guards in matching black suits filed in behind him.

Their faces were entirely blank. They marched down the red carpet in perfect unison, heading straight for us.

"Mr. Miller," I said, keeping my gaze locked on Julian's pale face. "Clear the altar."

"Yes, Ms. Quinn," the security director replied.

Julian stepped forward, pointing a trembling finger at Miller. "Stand down! I am her fiancé. This is my wedding."

"You canceled the wedding ten minutes ago," I pointed out.

"It was a mistake!" Julian shouted, spinning to face the crowd. "A misunderstanding! The ceremony will proceed as planned."

"No, it won't," I said.

"You are overreacting, Harper. We can talk about this in private. We can negotiate."

"We have nothing to discuss."

"I am the CEO!"

"You are a trespasser."

Julian glared at the line of guards. "If any of you lay a hand on me, I will have you fired. I will ruin your careers. Do you hear me?"

Miller didn't even blink. "Take him."

Two massive men in black suits flanked Julian.

"Don't you dare," Julian hissed.

The guard on his right grabbed his bicep. The guard on his left seized his other arm. They hoisted him upward in one smooth motion.

Julian's expensive dress shoes lifted entirely off the marble floor.

"Get your hands off me!" Julian roared.

He thrashed wildly. He kicked his legs, trying to find purchase on the smooth stone.

Chloe rushed forward, grabbing Julian's sleeve. "Stop! You're hurting him!"

"Step back, ma'am," the guard warned, easily shaking her off.

Chloe stumbled, catching herself on the podium. "You have no right to do this!"

"I have every right," I replied.

"Harper, stop them!" Julian commanded, his face turning a blotchy, furious red.

"Why would I do that?" I asked.

"Because we are going to fix this!"

"There is nothing to fix."

"I'll sign whatever you want!" Julian pleaded, his tone shifting from anger to panic. "Just tell them to put me down."

"You already signed everything."

I reached into the hidden pocket of my custom dress. My fingers found the heavy cardstock.

I pulled out our vow cards. The gold embossing caught the cathedral lights, flashing brightly.

Julian stopped kicking for a fraction of a second. "What are you doing with those?"

"I want to read my favorite part," I said.

"Put the cards away, Harper. Don't do this."

"I promise to build an empire with you," I read aloud, my voice carrying easily over the massive room. "To stand by your side through every storm."

"I meant it," he insisted, straining against the guards' hold.

"You meant to steal my company."

"I built that company!"

"You spent my money."

I gripped the top edge of the thick paper. I pulled my hands in opposite directions.

The cardstock tore with a sharp, satisfying rip.

"Harper, no!"

I stacked the two halves together. I ripped them again. Then a third time.

"You are throwing away three years!" Julian yelled.

"I am taking out the trash."

I stepped right up to him. He glared down at me, his chest heaving with exertion.

"You're a monster," he spat.

"I'm the owner."

I hurled the handful of shredded cardboard directly into his face.

The stiff pieces scattered. One jagged edge caught his upper cheekbone. It scraped hard across his skin.

A bright red welt bloomed instantly on his pale face.

Julian let out a raw, guttural noise. A trapped beast cornered and desperate.

He kicked his legs again, his shoes scuffing the marble. He twisted his torso, trying to break the guards' iron grip.

His perfectly tailored tuxedo jacket bunched up around his neck. The crisp white shirt wrinkled into a messy, ruined pile of fabric.

I watched him struggle.

A tiny knot of grief had sat heavy in my chest all morning. I felt it dissolve completely. Pure, freezing satisfaction rushed in to take its place.

"Get out," I commanded.

"You will pay for this!" Julian screamed as the guards dragged him backward down the side aisle. "I will take everything!"

"You have nothing left to take," I called after him.

"Julian!" Chloe wailed. She hiked up her heavy silk gown and sprinted after them, her shoes echoing loudly on the stone.

"Wait for me!" Chloe cried out.

"Don't let them take him!" a guest yelled from the back.

"Keep moving," Miller instructed his men.

I turned away from the pathetic display. I faced the long center aisle.

Five hundred guests stared at me in absolute silence.

"The event is over," I announced. "Please exit through the rear doors."

No one moved.

"Now," I added.

The spell broke. Guests scrambled out of the pews, rushing toward the exits.

I kept my chin high. I stepped off the altar.

I walked down the red carpet. The remaining crowd parted instantly, giving me a wide berth.

"Harper," Marcus said, falling into step beside me. "We need to finalize the board meeting."

"Schedule it for tomorrow morning," I replied.

"They will want answers."

"They will get profits. That's all they care about."

I reached the grand foyer. The heavy oak doors stood open, leading out into the bright afternoon sun.

"I'll bring the car around," Marcus offered.

"No. I need a minute."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

I didn't slow my pace. I marched right through the threshold.

I slammed directly into a solid wall of muscle.

A sharp scent hit my senses. Strong cigar smoke and crisp, cool mint.

I stumbled backward. Large hands caught my elbows, steadying me before I could fall.

"Careful," a deep, resonant voice rumbled.

I looked up.

Silas Sterling stared down at me. His dark eyes gave away absolutely nothing.

"Mr. Sterling," I said, catching my balance.

"Ms. Quinn."

He released my arms. He reached into his dark suit jacket.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Watching a hostile takeover."

His long fingers emerged holding a pure black access card.

He extended it toward me.

"My car is waiting," Silas offered.

The sky above the cathedral broke open. Rain slammed onto the pavement in heavy sheets, soaking the stone courtyard in seconds. Thunder rattled the stained-glass windows behind us.

"I do not need an escort, Mr. Sterling." I ignored the black access card in his hand.

"The press is already gathering at the main gates. They smell blood."

"Let them. I have my own ride."

"They will swarm you," he warned, his dark eyes studying my face. "They want a reaction. A tear. A breakdown."

"They will be severely disappointed."

"Stubborn," he noted. He lowered his arm, tucking the card back into his tailored suit jacket.

"Self-reliant," I corrected. "There is a difference."

"We will see."

"Goodbye, Mr. Sterling."

I stepped out into the storm. The icy rain instantly soaked my hair, but I did not flinch. I kept my spine completely straight as I walked toward my waiting driver.

I walked straight into my downtown penthouse. The quiet luxury of the massive apartment felt like a different universe compared to the chaos at the cathedral.

I bypassed the living room entirely and went straight to the security panel on the wall.

I punched in Julian's old passcode.

*Access granted.*

I hit the reset key. I typed a new string of numbers.

*Code saved.*

I poured a generous measure of Merlot into a crystal glass. The dark red liquid coated the sides of the glass as I swirled it.

I sank into the white leather sofa. The seat faced the private elevator vestibule. A set of heavy shatterproof glass doors separated my living room from the foyer. The storm raged outside the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me, lighting up the room with jagged flashes of lightning.

Thirty minutes later, the private elevator chimed.

Julian stepped into the vestibule. He was completely soaked. His ruined tuxedo clung to his frame like a second skin. Rainwater poured off his hair, pooling into dirty puddles on the pristine marble floor.

He marched directly to the card reader beside the glass door. He swiped his plastic key.

*ERRR-EHH.*

A sharp rejection alarm pierced the quiet room. The LED flashed a hard red.

Julian stared at the crimson light. He wiped the wet hair out of his eyes and swiped again.

*ERRR-EHH.*

"Open the door, Harper!" he yelled. His voice sounded muffled through the thick glass.

I stayed on the sofa. I took a sip of my wine. It tasted rich and perfectly aged.

He slapped the card against the scanner. "I know you are in there! Open it!"

He swiped a fourth time. The red light blinked angrily, denying him entry.

Julian threw the plastic card at the floor.

"You cannot do this to me!" he shouted over the booming thunder outside.

I reached for the remote on the coffee table. I pressed the intercom button.

"I already did," my voice echoed into the vestibule through the overhead speaker.

He jumped at the sound of my voice. He glared through the glass, searching the dimly lit living room until he spotted me on the sofa.

"This is my apartment!" Julian bellowed at the ceiling camera.

"I own the deed," I replied over the intercom. "You were just a guest."

"I picked out that sofa! I decorated this place!"

"With my credit card."

"Turn off the alarm and let me in. We are going to talk about this."

"We have nothing left to discuss."

"I left my things in there!"

"My staff boxed your belongings an hour ago. They are waiting in the loading dock next to the dumpsters."

"You threw my things in the trash?"

"I put them exactly where they belong."

Julian balled his hand into a fist. He punched the shatterproof pane.

A dull thud vibrated through the living room.

"You arrogant bitch!" he screamed.

"Language, Julian," I warned, keeping my tone entirely flat.

He punched the glass again. Harder.

"Open this goddamn door!"

His third strike left a bright smear on the glass. The skin over his knuckles split open. Blood mixed with the rainwater dripping from his sleeves.

"You are locking me out of my own life!" he yelled, hitting the barrier a fourth time.

"You walked out yourself."

"I made a mistake!"

"You made a choice. Now you get to live with the consequences."

"You pushed me into her arms!" he accused, pointing a bloody finger at the camera. "You never cared about me! You only cared about the company!"

"I cared enough to marry you. You ruined it."

"I will ruin you!" he threatened, pounding his bleeding fist against the pane. "I will take you to court. I will take half of everything!"

"With what lawyer?" I asked.

He froze. His chest heaved as the reality of his empty bank accounts hit him again.

I set my wine glass down on the coffee table. I stood up from the sofa.

I walked toward the foyer barrier.

Julian saw me approaching. He stopped punching. He flattened both hands against the bloody glass.

"Harper," he panted, his breath fogging up the pane. "Please."

I stopped inches from the door. I looked at his ruined hands, then up to his desperate, bloodshot eyes.

"Give me my access back," he pleaded. "Just unlock the door."

"No."

"I have nowhere else to go!"

"Call Chloe. I am sure she has room."

"She left me at the cathedral!" he shouted. "She took a cab and left me in the rain!"

"A tragic end to a beautiful romance."

"Stop playing games with me! I am freezing!"

"You should have brought an umbrella."

"Harper, I am begging you. Let me inside. We can fix this."

"There is no 'we' anymore."

"I am still your fiancé!"

"You are a stranger trespassing on my property."

I raised my right hand. I pressed my index finger directly against the glass. I aligned my fingertip perfectly with the bloody print left by his right fist.

He stared at my finger.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice cracking over the intercom.

I curled my other fingers inward. I rotated my wrist.

I gave him a thumbs-down.

Julian's eyes widened. The last shred of his sanity snapped entirely.

His face twisted into pure, unadulterated rage. He stepped back from the door.

"You think you won?" he roared. "You think you can just erase me?"

He reached into the pocket of his soaked trousers.

He pulled out a heavy metal tire iron.

He swung it backward, aiming right for the center of the glass.