The morning sun hit the glass doors of the Civil Affairs Bureau. I stood near the entrance, tracing the gold lettering on my newly printed divorce certificate.

"I just got the final separation files from Benjamin," a deep voice echoed behind me.

I turned. Sebastian walked up the marble steps, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. A faint smirk played on his lips.

"You move faster than my own lawyer," he noted, glancing at the green booklet in my hand.

"There was no need to waste time," I replied, slipping the paper into my purse. "Did you bring your documents?"

Sebastian paused, his amusement shifting into sharp focus. "My documents?"

"Let's get the marriage certificate done while we are here," I told him. "I prefer to consolidate my errands."

A genuine laugh rumbled in his chest. He snapped his fingers. His secretary, Ryan, stepped out from behind a concrete pillar, holding a sleek leather briefcase. Ryan popped the latches and handed Sebastian a thick stack of papers.

"My team drafted this prenuptial agreement at two in the morning," Sebastian said, offering me the file. "Fifty percent of Hayes Group shares, just as I promised. Read it over."

I took the pen from his hand, flipped directly to the last page, and signed my name on the dotted line.

Sebastian caught my wrist before I could hand it back. His thumb pressed lightly against my pulse. "You aren't even going to read the clauses? You just signed away your entire legal standing to a man you barely know. Aren't you afraid I'm tricking you?"

I pulled my hand free and capped the pen. "I have nothing left to be tricked out of."

His dark eyes locked onto mine. The amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, mutual understanding. We were both predators now.

"Ryan," Sebastian ordered, not breaking eye contact with me. "Take this to the registrar. Get us married."

***

The transition from a broken marriage to a billionaire's penthouse took exactly eight hours.

Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around Sebastian’s top-floor apartment, offering a sprawling view of the city skyline. I stood near the kitchen island, staring at the empty space. No wedding photos. No shared furniture. No memories of a cheating husband.

"I should probably head back to the old house tomorrow," I said, breaking the silence. "I need to pack my clothes."

Sebastian walked into the room, loosening his tie. "Are you sure Olivia hasn't touched those clothes?"

My stomach twisted. The image of my sister rolling around on my sofa flashed through my mind. She had probably worn my robes, used my perfume, and slept in my bed.

"Good point," I muttered, crossing my arms.

"Leave it all behind," Sebastian instructed, tossing his tie onto a velvet chair. "Whatever you want, I will buy new ones. Consider it a wedding gift."

"I don't want a shopping spree." I leaned against the marble counter. "The only thing I want is for Nathan and Olivia to get their karma. Quickly."

Sebastian pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. He slid the device across the island toward me. "They are already choking on it."

I glanced at the glowing screen. The top entertainment news site had exploded.

*BENNETT GROUP HEIR CAUGHT IN LIVE STREAM SCANDAL.*

*SISTER STEALS HUSBAND: THE FALL OF CHARLOTTE BENNETT?*

I scrolled down to the comment section. The internet had not held back.

*User4992: Did you see the way the sister smiled? She knew the camera was on. Absolute trash.*

*User8811: I just sold all my Bennett Group shares. If the new CEO can't even keep his pants on, the company is doomed.*

"The netizens are completely on your side," Sebastian pointed out, pouring two glasses of scotch. "And the financial sector is reacting exactly how we want. Bennett Group's stock has been plummeting since the market opened this morning."

I picked up the glass he offered. "Nathan always thought public relations was a joke. He thought any press was good press."

"He is learning a very expensive lesson today," Sebastian mused, taking a sip of his drink.

Before I could reply, my cell phone vibrated violently against the marble countertop.

The caller ID flashed in bright red letters. *Mother.*

Sebastian noticed the name. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the island. "Do you want me to answer it?"

"No," I said, my voice hardening. "I handle my own messes."

I swiped the screen and put the call on speaker.

"Charlotte Bennett!" Margaret’s voice shrieked through the audio, loud enough to make the glass in my hand vibrate. "Where are you? Why haven't you calmed the public down yet?"

"Hello to you too, Mother," I answered flatly.

"Do not play games with me!" she yelled. "The board of directors has been calling my private line all morning! They are threatening a vote of no confidence. You need to issue a statement right now!"

"I don't need to do anything," I reminded her. "I don't work there anymore. Remember?"

"Olivia is crying!" Margaret snapped, her tone dripping with furious accusation. "She has been locked inside the CEO's office for three hours, sobbing because the internet is calling her horrible names. How could you let this happen to your own sister?"

I gripped the edge of the counter. "I didn't force her to strip naked on my furniture."

"It was a mistake!"

"It was a broadcast," I corrected.

"You are being incredibly selfish!" Margaret shouted, the sound of papers rustling frantically in the background. "Olivia just took over the company today. This was supposed to be her big moment. Now the shareholders are panicking, the stock is crashing, and Nathan is hiding in the bathroom!"

Sebastian let out a low, mocking chuckle.

Margaret stopped. "Who is that? Who is laughing?"

"Just a friend," I said, catching Sebastian's eye.

"I don't care who you are with," Margaret hissed. "Get back to the office. Draft a press release saying the video was a deepfake. Take the blame for the stock drop. Do whatever it takes to protect Olivia."

"I am not targeting my sister," I stated, my tone dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I am targeting the mistress who slept with my ex-husband. If she happens to be collateral damage, that is her problem."

"She is your family!"

"She is a homewrecker." I took a slow sip of my scotch, letting the burn settle in my chest. "Besides, that company isn't mine anymore. Why are they panicking? Olivia wanted the crown. Now she gets to wear it."

"Charlotte, I swear to God, if you do not fix this—"

"The real show is just starting," I interrupted.

I tapped the red button, cutting off her frantic threats. The penthouse fell into a heavy, satisfying silence.

Sebastian raised his glass toward me. "A flawless execution, Mrs. Hayes."

"Don't celebrate yet," I warned, setting my empty glass down. "Margaret won't stop. She will send Nathan to find me. She will try to freeze my personal accounts."

"Let her try," Sebastian challenged, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "By the time they figure out who you married today, Bennett Group will be begging for a buyout."

My phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a call. It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened it. A single photo loaded on the screen.

A sharp jolt of ice shot through my veins.

Sebastian noticed my sudden stillness. "What is it?"

I turned the screen around so he could see. It was a picture of my father's grave, but the headstone had been vandalized with bright red spray paint. Underneath the photo was a short, chilling message.

*Come fix your mess, Charlotte. Or the cemetery won't be the only thing we destroy tonight.*