Night fell over Manhattan.

Gerard pushed open the door to the penthouse. He smelled faintly of scotch.

The apartment was pitch black. The warm yellow lamp on the console table, the one Alondra always left on for him, was off.

He yanked his tie loose and flipped the main light switch. The harsh LED lights made him squint.

He walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of ice water. He looked at the marble island. It was completely empty. There was no hangover soup waiting in a thermos.

A hollow, sinking feeling hit his stomach. He hated it.

He turned and walked quickly down the hall to the master bedroom. He went straight to the walk-in closet and grabbed the handle of her wardrobe door. He yanked it open.

The rows of custom haute couture dresses hung in silent, expensive rows—untouched. But the sections for her basic tees and jeans were hollow and bare.

He spun around and walked into the master bathroom. The marble vanity still held the expensive creams he’d bought her, lined up like museum exhibits. But her toothbrush and daily essentials were gone.

Gerard stared at the empty white marble. His breathing sped up. She wasn't throwing a tantrum. She had left his wealth behind and erased herself from his life.

A surge of panic mixed with rage hit him. He pulled his arm back and punched the bathroom mirror. The glass cracked, spiderwebbing across his reflection. But the violent outburst didn't soothe the gnawing emptiness in his chest. His breathing heavy, he stepped slowly into the walk-in closet. He stopped in front of a small velvet drawer she had accidentally left slightly open. Inside was a single, pale blue silk scarf she used to wear. Gerard reached out with trembling fingers and picked it up. He pressed the soft fabric against his face, inhaling deeply. The faint, lingering scent of her jasmine perfume hit his senses, twisting his stomach into knots. His eyes squeezed shut, a dark, twisted mix of rage and a sickening, pathological obsession washing over his features.

The next morning, the sun hit the glass facade of the Lang Group headquarters.

Alondra walked through the revolving doors. She wore a razor-sharp white blazer and matching trousers. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the floor.

Employees stopped and stared. Whispers broke out immediately. Everyone knew the boss's granddaughter was a disgraced housewife.

Alondra ignored them. She walked straight to the executive elevator.

The doors opened on the top floor. She stepped out and nearly collided with Isai Lang.

Isai wore a loud, custom-tailored blue suit. When he saw her, a massive, overly enthusiastic fake smile stretched across his face.

"Ally! Welcome back!" Isai shouted, opening his arms wide for a hug.

Alondra stepped back, creating a physical barrier. She extended her right hand.

Isai's arms dropped. His smile twitched. He took her hand, giving it a quick, cold shake.

"I heard about the divorce," Isai said loudly, making sure the nearby assistants heard. "It's okay to take time off to heal. You don't have to force yourself to work."

Alondra looked at him with dead eyes. "My personal life is none of your concern, Isai. Focus on your profit margins."

Isai's fake smile vanished. His eyes turned dark and calculating. He rubbed his hands together.

"Actually," Isai sneered, "I have a board meeting in ten minutes regarding the SegaCorp acquisition. You should sit in. You might learn something."

He emphasized the word 'learn'.

"I'd love to," Alondra said smoothly.

Ten minutes later, Alondra walked into the massive glass-walled boardroom.

The room was packed with senior executives. The chatter died instantly when she walked in.

Isai was standing near the head of the table. He pointed to an empty chair at the very far end, near the door. "Have a seat down there, Ally."

Alondra didn't look at the chair. She walked straight to the top of the table. She pulled out the heavy leather chair immediately to the right of the empty Chairman's seat-the second most powerful position in the room.

She sat down, crossed her legs, and placed her folder on the table. The entire room gasped.

Alondra slapped her leather folder onto the mahogany table. The sharp smack echoed in the silent room.

Isai stood up abruptly, leaning heavily over the table. He pressed his knuckles into the mahogany, trying to use his larger physical frame to loom over her and project dominance. "What do you think you're doing? That seat is for the SVP. Move to the back."

Alondra leaned back in the chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. "And as the new Senior Vice President, I am sitting exactly where I belong."

She slid the paper Gardner had signed down the center of the table.

Isai snatched it up. His eyes scanned the signature. The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale and sweating.

The executives exchanged shocked looks. No one dared to speak.

Isai swallowed hard. He threw the paper back down and dropped into his chair. He forced a tight smile. "Fine. Let's review the SegaCorp acquisition."

He grabbed a remote and turned on the projector. A complex financial model appeared on the screen.

Isai started talking fast, throwing out heavy financial jargon-EBITDA, leveraged buyouts, synergistic asset stripping. He kept glancing at Alondra, waiting for her to look confused.

Alondra sat perfectly still. Her index finger tapped a steady rhythm against the table.

When Isai clicked to slide three, showing the capital allocation, Alondra held up her hand.

"Stop," she commanded.

Isai paused. "Is the math too complicated for you?"

"Explain the due diligence fees," Alondra said, her voice cutting through the room like a knife. "They are three hundred percent over the industry standard."

The room went dead quiet. Isai's neck flushed red. Sweat formed on his upper lip.

"We... we hired a top-tier offshore firm to ensure absolute security," Isai stammered, rubbing his hands together nervously.

Alondra stood up. She walked to the front of the room, reached behind the laptop, and yanked Isai's USB drive out. She plugged her own silver drive in.

The screen flashed. A detailed spreadsheet appeared.

Alondra picked up the laser pointer. The red dot circled three company names.

"These are shell companies registered in the Cayman Islands," Alondra stated clearly. "The excess fees were routed directly into these accounts. Accounts that, according to these bank records, are controlled by your mother's maiden name trust."

Gasps erupted around the table.

Isai jumped up, knocking his chair backward. "You're lying! You forged those documents!"

Alondra walked back to the table. She pulled out a stack of printed bank statements and tossed them to the senior board members.

The directors looked at the routing numbers. Their faces hardened in disgust.

Isai's knees gave out. He collapsed back into his chair, staring blankly at the table.

Alondra stood up slowly, her movements fluid and utterly unbothered. She crossed her arms elegantly over her chest, standing perfectly straight as she looked down at Isai's panicked eyes with the imperious grace of a reigning queen.

"As SVP, I am stripping you of all authority regarding SegaCorp," Alondra announced. "And I am ordering an immediate internal audit of every project you touch."

Isai looked around desperately, but the directors turned their heads away. Gardner's proxy nodded in agreement with Alondra.

Alondra didn't even grant Isai a second glance. She turned her sharp gaze to the corner of the room. "Heath," she commanded, her tone absolute. "Contact the legal department and corporate security immediately. Have Isai Lang detained on the premises and hand him directly over to the authorities for corporate embezzlement." Isai let out a pathetic whimper, but no one moved to help him.

"Meeting adjourned," Alondra said.

She picked up her folder and walked out the door.

In the hallway, a tall, sharp-looking man in a gray suit stepped forward. He handed her a glass of room-temperature water.

"Excellent work, Ms. Lang," he said respectfully. "I'm Heath Mooney, your new executive assistant."