Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains. Haleigh woke up refreshed.

She took her time. She stretched. She went into the bathroom and showered loudly, singing opera off-key.

Only after she was fully dressed did she unlock the bedroom door. She left it wide open and went downstairs.

She didn't look back at the closet. She knew Brylee would scramble out the moment the coast was clear.

In the dining room, Gray was sitting at the head of the table. He looked like he hadn't slept. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was furiously texting under the table.

Haleigh poured herself a coffee. "Morning, darling."

Five minutes later, Brylee walked in.

She looked wrecked. Her hair was frizzy, her makeup was caked on in an attempt to hide dark circles, and her skin had a greyish tint. She was wearing a different dress than the night before-one of Haleigh's old ones that she must have grabbed from the closet.

"Brylee!" Haleigh exclaimed, setting her cup down loud enough to make them jump. "You're here early! Did you sleep over?"

Brylee flinched. "I... yes. In the guest house. I had insomnia."

"You look terrible," Haleigh said sympathetically. "Puffy eyes. Dehydrated."

The doorbell rang. The maid opened it, and Mr. and Mrs. Cooley swept in.

Mrs. Cooley looked immaculate in white tweed. She ignored Haleigh and kissed Gray on the cheek.

They all sat down. The tension was thick enough to choke on.

Mr. Cooley didn't waste time on pleasantries. He cut into his steak with surgical precision.

"Haleigh," he said without looking up. "We need to discuss Zenith."

Haleigh put down her fork. "Yes?"

" The Board feels you are overextended," Mr. Cooley said. "We've decided to bring Brylee in as a co-manager. To assist."

Brylee feigned surprise, pressing a hand to her chest. "Oh, Arthur, I'm just an art dealer. I don't know architecture."

"Management isn't about drawing pretty lines," Mrs. Cooley snapped. "It's about people skills. Haleigh is too... fragile lately."

"Fragile?" Haleigh repeated.

"We need stability," Gray chimed in, avoiding her eyes. "For the family. So you can focus on... trying for a baby."

At the mention of the baby, Brylee subconsciously smoothed her hand over her stomach. She shot Haleigh a look of pure, venomous triumph.

Haleigh saw the game. They wanted her out. They wanted the project, the money, and the credit.

"Zenith's contracts are tied to me as the lead architect," Haleigh said calmly. "If you remove me, the clients can walk."

"You are a Cooley," Mr. Cooley said, his voice dropping an octave. "Your name is an asset. We own it."

Haleigh looked around the table. The greedy faces. The lies.

She leaned back. "I'll step down."

The relief in the room was palpable. Gray let out a breath he'd been holding.

"However," Haleigh continued, holding up a finger. "I have a condition."

"Name it," Gray said quickly.

"I want the deed to the warehouse on Dowling Street. The old textile factory."

Mr. Cooley frowned. "That rusted heap? It's a liability. It's full of asbestos and squatters."

"I have a sentimental attachment to it," Haleigh lied. "I want to turn it into a private studio. Somewhere I can paint."

Mr. Cooley did the math in his head instantly. Zenith was worth hundreds of millions. The warehouse was a tax write-off worth maybe fifty grand.

"Done," Mr. Cooley said. "Transfer the Zenith signature authority to Brylee today. You get your pile of bricks."

Haleigh smiled. She took a sip of her coffee to hide the predatory glint in her eyes.

Hjalmer Barrett had told her that the Dowling Street warehouse sat directly in the path of the new high-speed rail line Barrett Holdings was announcing next month. Its value was about to skyrocket by four thousand percent.

"To family," Haleigh said, raising her mug.

She watched them drink, knowing they had just signed their own financial death warrants.

The clinking of silverware resumed, but Mrs. Cooley wasn't finished. She dabbed her mouth with a linen napkin, her eyes cold and hard like marbles.

"Since you have so much free time now," she said, her voice dripping with disdain, "maybe you can actually focus on your one job. Providing an heir."

Haleigh's hand tightened on her knife.

"Three years, Haleigh," Mrs. Cooley continued. "And nothing. The Cooley name needs a future, not a decorative vase that sits on the shelf."

Gray kept his head down, shoveling eggs into his mouth. Coward.

Haleigh looked at Brylee. Brylee was smirking, looking down at her belly again.

"Actually," Haleigh said, her voice cutting through the insults. "I've been thinking about that. With all the rumors lately... I think we need to make a statement."

"What kind of statement?" Gray asked nervously.

"A Vow Renewal," Haleigh announced.

Brylee choked on her water. Her fork clattered against the china.

"A what?" Mrs. Cooley looked disgusted.

"A Vow Renewal Ceremony," Haleigh repeated firmly. "Next month. We need to show the world how strong our marriage is. Especially with me stepping back from Zenith. People will talk. We need a unified front."

"That's expensive," Mrs. Cooley scoffed. "And unnecessary. Get pregnant first."

Haleigh stood up. The legs of her chair scraped violently against the hardwood floor.

"My trust fund built the East Wing of this house," Haleigh said, her voice rising. "My salary pays for the yacht maintenance. I am asking for a party. Is that too much?"

Mrs. Cooley's face flushed red. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

Haleigh ignored her. She turned her gaze to Gray.

"If there is no ceremony," she said, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "I don't sign the Zenith transfer papers."

The threat hung in the air.

Gray looked at his father. Mr. Cooley gave a barely perceptible nod. They needed that signature.

"Okay," Gray said, standing up to placate her. "Okay, babe. We'll do it. A big party. Next month."

"Good," Haleigh said. "I want it to be perfect."

She turned and walked out of the dining room.

"Haleigh, wait!" Inez, the housekeeper, tried to stop her at the foot of the stairs, looking worried.

"Move," Haleigh snapped. She pushed past the woman and ran up the stairs.

She could hear Mrs. Cooley screaming obscenities downstairs.

Haleigh entered the bedroom and locked the door. She leaned against the wood, her chest heaving. She wasn't scared. She was exhilarated.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Unknown Number: Mr. Barrett is pleased. He will meet you tomorrow to discuss the "arrangements" for the ceremony.

It was from Kane's assistant.

Haleigh looked at the wall. A large, framed photo of her and Gray on their wedding day hung there. They looked so happy. So fake.

She walked over to it, grabbed the frame with both hands, and ripped it off the wall.

She threw it.

It hit the floor with a satisfying crash. Glass shattered, scattering across the rug like diamonds.

The fracture line ran right through Gray's smiling face.

Night had fallen over the city. Haleigh lay in the master bed, staring at the ceiling. She hadn't cleaned up the broken glass.

She knew Brylee. Brylee was impatient. Brylee was greedy. Now that she was "co-manager" of Zenith, she would want to prove herself immediately. She would need the confidential files Haleigh kept in the bedroom safe.

Haleigh had prepared. She had left a stack of files on the desk-decoys. And she had placed a single strand of her own long, dark hair across the top folder.

She turned off the lamp. The room plunged into darkness, save for the moonlight slicing through the curtains.

She waited.

At 2:00 AM, the handle turned.

Haleigh had left it unlocked on purpose.

The door creaked open. A shadow entered. It was bulky, moving with a clumsiness that betrayed nerves.

Brylee.

The shadow moved toward the desk. The soft glow of a phone flashlight clicked on, sweeping over the papers.

Haleigh opened her eyes. She lay perfectly still, controlling her breathing.

Rustle. Rustle.

Brylee was flipping through the files.

Haleigh sat up. The mattress springs didn't make a sound.

"What are you looking for?"

Her voice was low, ghostly.

Brylee shrieked. It was a high, thin sound of pure terror. The phone clattered to the floor, the light spinning wildly.

Haleigh reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Brylee was pressed against the desk, clutching her chest. Her face was the color of paper.

"I... I..." Brylee stammered. "I have a headache. I was looking for aspirin. Inez said you kept some in here."

Haleigh swung her legs out of bed. She stood up and walked slowly toward Brylee.

"Aspirin is in the bathroom," Haleigh said. "Not in my project files."

She stopped inches from Brylee. Haleigh was taller, and in this moment, she felt like a giant.

"You look guilty, Bry," Haleigh said softly. She reached out and brushed a piece of lint off Brylee's shoulder.

Brylee flinched as if burned. She stumbled back, hitting the edge of the desk. "You're paranoid. You need help."

Haleigh leaned in, her lips close to Brylee's ear.

"You know what happens to rats when they come out at night?"

Brylee trembled. "What?"

"They get their necks snapped."

The silence that followed was heavy with violence.

Brylee grabbed her phone from the floor and bolted. She ran out of the room without looking back.

Haleigh watched the empty doorway. A cold smile touched her lips.

She walked to the desk. The hair was gone.

She sat on the edge of the bed. The adrenaline faded, leaving a dull ache in her abdomen. An old injury.

She touched the scar on her side. The construction site accident two years ago. She had pushed Gray out of the way of a falling rebar. It had pierced her side, damaging her uterus.

"You may never conceive," the doctor had said.

Gray had cried. He had held her hand. "It doesn't matter. Adoption, surrogacy, it doesn't matter. I just want you."

A tear leaked from Haleigh's eye. She wiped it away furiously.

He had lied. He had used her infertility-caused by saving his life-as the excuse to replace her with her best friend.

There would be no mercy.