The subway ride to Wright Enterprises was a gauntlet of humiliation. Emely squeezed into a corner seat, trying to make herself small, but her hips spilled over the designated space. The woman next to her sighed loudly, shifting her body away with an exaggerated grimace, pressing a designer bag between them as a barrier.

Emely kept her eyes on the small TV screen mounted in the corner of the car. The news was playing a loop of the explosion at the Cohen Pharmaceutical plant. Smoke billowing, sirens wailing.

"Arthur Cohen faces potential criminal charges," the anchor announced. "Negligence leading to mass chemical exposure."

Emely closed her eyes. Her father. A criminal.

When she arrived at the Wright building, the receptionist-a girl Emely had once tipped a hundred dollars for Christmas-didn't smile.

"ID, please," she said, popping her gum.

"It's me, Sarah. Emely."

"Policy changed. ID."

Emely handed it over, her face burning. After a ten-minute wait where she could hear the whispers of employees behind the glass partition, Liam, Kody's assistant, came out. He didn't offer a handshake. He just gestured for her to follow.

Kody was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk. He didn't stand up. He didn't look up from his computer until Liam closed the door.

Emely tried to smile. She walked toward him, instinctively reaching out. "Kody, I got your text. Is everything okay?"

Kody held up a hand. "Sit there, Emely." He pointed to the leather chair opposite the desk. The distance between them felt like an ocean.

He slid a single sheet of paper across the polished wood. "Sign this."

Emely looked at the document. The words swam before her eyes. Termination of Engagement.

"You want to... postpone the wedding?" Her voice was small, pathetic.

Kody sighed, running a hand through his gelled hair. "Cancel. It's over."

"Why?" The word cracked. "Because of the factory? Kody, we've been together for ten years. Since high school."

Kody stood up then, walking to the window to look out at the city skyline. "The Cohen name is poison, Emely. My investors are getting nervous. I can't have Wright Enterprises dragged down by your father's incompetence."

"It was an accident!" Emely gripped the arms of the chair.

Kody turned around. His eyes were cold, assessing. He looked at her not as a woman he loved, but as a liability. His gaze traveled down her body, lingering on her midsection, her thick thighs.

"Besides," he said, his voice dropping to a cruel murmur. "Look at you. Do you really think you fit the image of a CEO's wife anymore? You're an embarrassment."

The air left the room. Emely felt like she'd been slapped. "You said you didn't care about the weight. You said it was just stress."

"That was before you doubled in size." Kody pulled a wet wipe from a dispenser on his desk and wiped his hands, as if just breathing the same air as her had made him dirty. "You disgust me, Emely."

The office door swung open. A petite blonde woman with a waist the size of Emely's neck poked her head in.

"Honey, did you want the salmon or the steak for lunch?" Her voice was syrup.

Kody's face transformed instantly. The cruelty vanished, replaced by a warm, doting smile. "Steak, Annie. Rare."

Emely recognized her. Annie Wells. His new secretary. Hired two months ago.

Annie looked at Emely, her blue eyes widening in mock surprise. "Oh! Is this the delivery lady? Did she bring the dry cleaning?"

Kody didn't correct her. He just looked at Emely with flat, dead eyes. "Sign the paper and get out."

Emely stood up. Her legs were shaking so hard she thought she might collapse. She didn't sign. She grabbed the paper, crumpled it in her fist, and turned around.

"You're a coward, Kody," she whispered.

She walked out, passing Annie, who was smirking. As the elevator doors closed, Emely saw Kody walk over to Annie and wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Emely didn't leave the premises. She couldn't. Her legs gave out in the lobby, and she sat on a bench near the revolving doors, gasping for air. The security guard watched her suspiciously, hand hovering near his radio.

Twenty minutes later, Kody and Annie walked out. They were laughing.

Emely saw them head toward the curb where the valet had just pulled up a silver Porsche 911.

Her Porsche. The one she had bought for Kody's thirtieth birthday.

Rage, hot and blinding, surged through her veins, overriding the shame. Emely pushed herself up and ran out the doors.

"Hey!" she screamed.

Kody froze, his hand on the car door. He looked around, annoyed, until he saw her barrelling toward him.

"That's my car!" Emely yelled, stepping in front of the vehicle. "Give me the keys!"

Passersby stopped. Phones came out. The cameras were like little black eyes, recording her breakdown.

"You're making a scene," Kody hissed, stepping toward her. "Go home."

"I bought this car!" Emely slammed her hand on the hood. "It's in my name!"

"Wrong," Kody sneered. "You put it in the company's name for tax purposes. Remember? It belongs to Wright Enterprises. Which means it belongs to me."

Emely stared at him, the realization crashing down on her. He had planned this. He had been planning this for years. Every asset, every gift, every shared account-he had slowly, methodically moved them out of her reach.

"You thief," she spat.

Annie stepped out from behind Kody, looking terrified in a very performative way. She placed a hand on her flat stomach. "Kody, please. The baby."

The world stopped spinning.

Emely looked at Annie's hand. "Baby?"

Kody stiffened. He stepped in front of Annie, shielding her. "Don't look at her."

"We broke up twenty minutes ago," Emely said, her voice sounding hollow, like it was coming from someone else. "How can there be a baby?"

Kody adjusted his tie, regaining his composure. "We've been together for six months, Emely. Everyone knew. Except you."

Six months. While Emely was visiting her father in legal depositions. While she was stress-eating in the dark. While she was planning their wedding.

Emely started to laugh. It was a jagged, ugly sound that tore at her throat. Tears streamed down her face, hot and humiliating.

She reached up and unclasped the thin gold chain around her neck. The engagement necklace. A tiny diamond chip that looked pathetic now.

"Here," she said. She threw it. It hit Kody in the chest and bounced off, landing in a puddle of gutter water. "Keep your trash."

Kody looked at the necklace in the mud, then back at her. He didn't pick it up. He just smirked, opened the car door for Annie, and got in the driver's seat.

The engine roared. The Porsche peeled away, the tires spraying dirty water all over Emely's legs.

She stood there, dripping, alone in the middle of the busy street. The crowd dispersed, bored now that the show was over.

Emely's phone rang in her pocket. It was the special ringtone she had set for her father.

She wiped her face with a shaking hand and answered.

"Dad?"

"Emely?" It wasn't her father. It was her mother, Martha. And she was screaming. "Get to St. Jude's. Now. It's his heart."

The emergency room smelled of bleach and despair. Emely ran through the automatic doors, her wet clothes clinging to her skin, her hair a frizzy mess.

She found her mother in the waiting area, huddled in a plastic chair, looking small and gray.

"Mom!"

Martha looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. "He collapsed. They said it's acute heart failure. He needs a bypass. Immediately."

"Okay," Emely said, her heart hammering. "Okay, do it. Tell them to do it."

Martha shook her head, tears spilling over. "They won't. The insurance... it was tied to the company accounts. It's been frozen. All of it."

Emely marched to the billing desk. The woman behind the computer didn't even look up.

"Name?"

"Arthur Cohen. He needs surgery."

"We need a payment method on file. The previous card was declined."

Emely pulled out her wallet. She slapped down her Visa. Declined. Her MasterCard. Declined. Her Amex. Declined.

The receptionist looked at her with pity that felt worse than scorn. "Miss Cohen, without a deposit, we can only stabilize him. We can't operate."

"How much?" Emely asked, her voice trembling.

"The initial deposit for the surgical team is two hundred thousand dollars."

Emely felt a wave of dizziness. "Two hundred thousand..."

"And that's just to book the OR," the woman added softly, not unkindly. "The total procedure, given his complex condition, will likely be closer to five million."

Emely walked back to her mother, her legs feeling like lead. She sat down and took Martha's hand. It was cold.

"We have nothing, Em," Martha whispered. "The house is foreclosed. The accounts are seized. We're going to be on the street."

Emely looked through the glass doors of the ICU. She could see her father's pale face, the tube down his throat. The machine beeped steadily, a countdown clock on his life.

She felt a weight against her chest. Not the pressure of grief, but the physical weight of the obsidian ring tucked into her bra.

If you're ever desperate.

She stood up. "I'll get the money."

"How?" Martha cried. "Kody?"

"No," Emely said, her voice turning hard. "Someone who owes me."

She walked out of the hospital and found a discarded cigarette butt on the ground near the smoking area. She picked it up, lit it with a stray lighter she found in her pocket, and took a drag. She coughed as the harsh smoke burned her lungs, but it steadied her hands.

She dialed Zoe.

"Em! Oh my god, I saw the video online. Did you really throw the necklace?" Zoe's voice was frantic.

"Where is Christ Collins?" Emely asked.

Silence. Then, "Christ? Why?"

"Just tell me, Zoe."

"Zack is tracking him. He's in the Hamptons. A private estate party. Tonight."

"I need a ride," Emely said. "And I need a dress."

"Emely, you can't go there. The Collins family... they aren't normal. There are rumors. Dark rumors."

"My dad is dying, Zoe. I don't care if Christ Collins is the devil himself. I'm going to collect."