Cassidy gripped the handle of the screwdriver tightly. With precise, ruthless movements, she unscrewed the four micro-screws holding the robot's back panel in place.

The metal plate clattered onto the wooden workbench.

Cassidy stared at the exposed guts of the machine. The complex web of integrated circuits and chips wasn't standard. With her MIT background, it took her less than three seconds to recognize it was a custom build.

Her eyes scanned the edges of the green motherboard. She recognized the bulky, outdated ambient voiceprint recording module attached to the core processor. Cornelius had been testing its background audio-capture capabilities back then, and had likely forgotten to wipe the local storage before tossing the prototype to her. Tucked away in a nearly invisible crevice near the battery housing was a tiny, physical activation button.

Driven by pure technical instinct, she grabbed an insulated testing probe from the desk and pressed the tip firmly against the hidden button.

The robot's optical sensors flashed a sudden, harsh blue. A low crackle of static hissed from the cheap internal speaker.

Then, a voice filled the quiet studio.

It was Cornelius. He sounded younger, but the arrogant, freezing tone was unmistakable.

The background noise was a low hum of clinking cocktail glasses and heavy bass. It was a recording from a private party.

Another man's voice slurred through the speaker, laughing. "Why the hell are you suddenly marrying that broke college student, Cassidy?"

Cornelius let out a sharp, disdainful sneer. The sound echoed off the brick walls of the studio, slicing straight into Cassidy's chest.

"Because she's easy to control," Cornelius's recorded voice said smoothly. "She has no background. No leverage. You throw her a little bone, and she'll be perfectly obedient."

He paused, the ice clinking in his glass. "Halle doesn't want to settle down yet. Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield. A placeholder."

The recording cut off abruptly, leaving nothing but the harsh, hissing sound of white noise.

Cassidy stood frozen. The insulated probe hovered in the air above the motherboard.

Her blood turned to liquid nitrogen in her veins.

For seven years, she had clung to the memory of his proposal, believing it was the one moment of genuine warmth beneath his cold exterior.

Now she knew the truth. From the very first second, it had been a calculated, malicious trap.

The back of her eyes burned with a fierce, agonizing heat. Cassidy blinked hard, digging her nails into her palms, forcing the tears back down her throat. She refused to shed another drop of water for this man.

A dark, self-mocking sneer twisted her lips. She had been a spectacular fool for seven long years.

Cassidy dropped the probe onto the desk. She reached over with her right hand and grabbed the massive, flawless diamond ring sitting on her left ring finger.

She didn't hesitate. She gripped the cold stone and violently yanked the ring off her finger.

The metal scraped harshly against her skin, leaving a glaring, angry red indentation on her pale flesh.

She tossed the multi-million-dollar diamond onto the desk. It bounced off the dismantled, worthless pieces of the robot with a sharp, pathetic clink.

Cassidy turned on her heel and marched into the small bathroom. She pumped a handful of harsh antibacterial soap into her palm and began to scrub her left hand under the scalding hot water.

She scrubbed the red indentation on her ring finger over and over again, her nails digging into her own skin, trying to wash away the invisible filth of his touch.

She didn't stop until the skin was raw, burning, and nearly bleeding. She grabbed a rough towel and dried her hands.

Her phone vibrated on the counter. It was a text from Kori: The divorce agreement is drafted. Meet me.

Cassidy typed back: I'm on my way.

She walked out of the bathroom and pulled on a sharp, structured black trench coat.

She left the dismantled robot and the glittering diamond ring sitting in the grease and dust on the workbench. She grabbed her leather tote bag and walked out the door.

The heavy metal door slammed shut behind her, the loud bang echoing down the hallway, locking the humiliating corpse of her marriage inside forever.

Cassidy pushed through the heavy glass revolving doors of the midtown Manhattan bank building. Her black trench coat flared slightly around her legs, her high heels clicking sharply against the polished granite floor.

She bypassed the reception desk and walked straight into the Human Resources department. She pulled the printed resignation letter from her bag and slapped it flat onto the supervisor's desk.

Agnes, the HR supervisor, slowly looked up. She pushed her designer glasses up her nose, her eyes dripping with barely concealed contempt.

"Well," Agnes drawled, her voice thick with arrogance. "Have you finally grown tired of experiencing civilian life, Mrs. Lambert?"

Cassidy's face was a mask of absolute ice. She looked down at the woman and said, "Process the paperwork. Sign it. Now."

Agnes rolled her eyes, deliberately slowing her movements. She lazily clicked her mouse, pretending to meticulously verify the employee ID on her screen.

Suddenly, a chaotic commotion erupted in the hallway outside the glass office.

Sterling, the bank's Director of IT, sprinted into the HR office. His face was slick with sweat, his eyes wide with panic. "The core servers are hit with a military-grade ransomware attack!" he screamed.

"All the data is heavily encrypted!" Sterling yelled, grabbing his own hair. "If we don't bypass it in ten minutes, we lose millions!"

Agnes shot up from her chair, her face draining of color, completely useless in the face of the crisis.

Cassidy let out a heavy, irritated sigh. She walked around the desk and physically shoved the paralyzed Agnes out of the way.

Cassidy pulled the keyboard toward her. Her fingers hit the keys, instantly transforming into a blur of motion. She bypassed the standard UI and pulled up the raw, black command-line interface.

Sterling stood frozen in shock, watching the wealthy, supposedly useless trophy wife-who only ever handled basic printer maintenance-typing complex, high-level encryption bypass codes at lightning speed.

Less than three minutes later, a bright green progress bar flashed across the screen. It filled instantly.

Cassidy slammed her finger down on the Enter key.

A soft, melodic chime echoed through the office. The system was back online.

She stood up straight and casually dusted off her hands, as if she had just wiped a speck of dirt from her coat.

Sterling stared at her, his jaw practically on the floor. He stuttered, "W-who are you? How do you know the core encryption algorithms?"

Cassidy didn't even look at him. She turned her freezing gaze back to Agnes, who was staring at her in mute horror.

"Sign it," Cassidy commanded.

Agnes's hands shook violently as she grabbed a pen, scribbled her signature on the resignation form, and stamped it.

Cassidy snatched her copy of the paperwork from the desk, turned on her heel, and strode out of the office without another word.

She walked across the massive, echoing lobby toward the exit.

High above the marble floor, a giant LCD screen was broadcasting a live financial news network.

Cassidy stopped in her tracks. She looked up.

Filling the massive screen was the perfectly contoured, smiling face of Halle Moss.

The news anchor's voice boomed through the lobby speakers, announcing that Halle Moss had officially been appointed as the new Executive Vice President of the Lambert Group.

On the screen, Halle smiled radiantly, looking every bit the triumphant queen who had just conquered a corporate empire.

Cassidy stared at the screen and let out a harsh, mocking sneer.

She knew for a fact that Halle was a complete idiot when it came to technology. This high-level appointment was nothing but Cornelius paving the way for his precious childhood sweetheart with his own power.

Cassidy tore her eyes away from the screen, shoved the resignation papers into her bag, and pushed through the doors into the bright, biting sunlight.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Kori had sent a location pin for a high-end private lounge nearby.

Cassidy raised her hand, hailed a passing yellow cab, and sped toward the lounge, ready to start the war.

Cassidy walked into the dimly lit, exclusive private lounge. The air smelled of expensive bourbon and leather. She spotted Kori sitting in a secluded, velvet-lined booth in the far corner.

Cassidy slid into the booth and immediately ordered a dry martini from the waiter. Kori pushed a thick, intimidating stack of legal documents across the table.

Kori's brow was furrowed in deep frustration. She tapped the thick paper with her manicured fingernail. "This prenup is an iron fortress, Cass."

"Under New York state law, based on these clauses, unless you can prove major, undeniable fault on his end, you are walking away with absolutely nothing. You will be stripped bare," Kori explained, her voice tight with anger.

Kori slammed her palm flat against the table. "Cornelius is a calculating bastard. He trapped you from day one."

Cassidy picked up her martini glass. She took a slow, deliberate sip. Her face remained perfectly calm, as if they were discussing the weather.

She set the glass down. "I don't want a single cent of his money. I just want my freedom, and I want full custody of Benny."

Kori let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Cass, how are you going to live? How are you going to fight a billionaire in court? Your pathetic salary at that bank won't even cover my retainer, let alone a custody battle."

A faint, mysterious smile touched the corners of Cassidy's lips. "You don't need to worry about the money."

She pulled out her phone, opened a highly secure banking app, authenticated with her biometrics, and swiftly initiated a transfer. "I've just wired one million dollars to your firm's trust account as an initial retainer," Cassidy said calmly. Kori's phone buzzed immediately with the deposit notification. Kori glanced at the screen.

Her eyes widened in absolute shock. She stared at the unbelievable sum, her mouth falling open.

She nearly knocked over her own drink.

Kori leaned in, dropping her voice to a frantic whisper. "Did you rob a bank?"

Cassidy shook her head slowly. "I earned every penny of it."

She didn't elaborate on the Indigo identity. She simply locked her phone and put it away. "Money is not the issue. What we need right now is undeniable proof of his fault."

Having established their battle plan, the two women paid the bill and walked out of the lounge, heading down a narrow stairwell to the underground VIP valet parking garage.

The garage was cavernous and poorly lit. The air was thick with the suffocating smell of car exhaust and burnt rubber.

Kori walked a few paces ahead toward the valet stand to get her keys. Cassidy followed, reaching into her trench coat pocket for her phone.

Her fingers slipped. Her keys tumbled from her pocket and hit the rough concrete floor with a sharp, echoing clatter.

Cassidy bent down to pick them up. As she crouched, her line of sight passed through a narrow gap between two massive SUVs parked nearby.

In the deepest, darkest corner of the garage-a blind spot completely hidden from the security cameras-sat a sleek, black Maybach with a specialized license plate.

It was Cornelius's personal car.

Cassidy's heart skipped a violent beat.

The rear window of the Maybach was rolled halfway down. The faint, warm glow of a reading light illuminated the backseat.

Cassidy narrowed her eyes, peering through the gap. Cornelius was leaning back against the plush leather seat, his eyes closed in relaxation.

And Halle Moss was half-kneeling on the seat beside him. Her body was leaning aggressively forward, completely invading his personal space.

Halle's fingers were gently, intimately tracing the line of Cornelius's jaw, as if wiping something away.

Cornelius didn't push her away. He didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his posture radiating a sickeningly familiar intimacy.

The blood rushed to Cassidy's head, pounding in her ears. This wasn't just a betrayal. This was the exact weapon she needed, handed to her on a silver platter.

She immediately dropped lower, pressing her body against a thick, concrete load-bearing pillar for cover.

She pulled out her phone, swiped open the camera app, and switched it to the highest resolution setting. She double-checked that her phone was on silent.

She aimed the lens directly at the half-open window, locking onto the disgusting, intimate scene between the cheating husband and the childhood sweetheart.

Her thumb hovered steadily over the digital shutter button, ready to strike.