Her heels sinking into the thick carpet of the hallway. She didn't stop until she reached the master bedroom.

She stepped inside and slammed the door shut. She turned the lock on the doorknob until it clicked.

Harlow marched straight into the en-suite bathroom. She turned the silver faucet all the way to the cold side. The freezing water rushed out. She cupped her hands and splashed the icy water onto her face, over and over again.

The freezing temperature shocked her system. It stopped the trembling in her hands.

She grabbed a towel and patted her face dry. Harlow looked up at the large vanity mirror. Her eyes were slightly red, but her gaze was hard as steel. Three years of a charity-case marriage. She had funded his life, and this was her return on investment.

A loud rattle came from the bedroom door.

Then came the sharp click of a key turning in the lock. Beck had used the master bedroom spare key.

Beck pushed the door open and strolled into the bedroom. He walked right past the bathroom and stopped in front of the full-length mirror. He casually began to re-tie his silk necktie, acting as if the disgusting scene in the library had never happened.

"Get yourself ready," Beck commanded, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "We have the Wall Street Chamber of Commerce gala tonight. Wear the black dress."

Harlow slowly lowered the towel. Her stomach twisted.

"How do you have the face to ask me that?" Harlow asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

Beck frowned. He turned around, adopting a high-and-mighty, lecturing posture.

"Men play around, Harlow. It's normal in our circle," Beck said smoothly. "It's just business and stress relief."

He adjusted his cuffs. "Kade is a boy. He needs a proper title. But I am a generous man. You can keep the title of Mrs. Chase. You still get to be my wife in public."

Harlow stared at him, her jaw tight.

"Let's be honest," Beck sneered, looking her up and down. "Besides the empty Holman last name, you have zero commercial value. You are useless in the business world."

He puffed out his chest. "Holman Industries is surviving because of my AI project. I am the genius holding your family's company together."

A sharp, humorless laugh escaped Harlow's lips.

Genius? The AI core architecture he was so proud of was written by her. She was the anonymous developer known as "King." She had spoon-fed him the code to save his failing department.

Harlow didn't waste another breath on his delusions. She turned sharply and walked into the massive walk-in closet.

She reached up to the highest shelf and grabbed a heavy-duty, black plastic trash bag. She snapped it open with a loud crack.

Beck followed her into the closet. He crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. "Are you throwing another princess tantrum?"

Harlow didn't look at him. She marched over to his side of the closet. She grabbed five of his custom-tailored Italian suits by the hangers. With one violent yank, she ripped them off the rack.

She shoved the expensive wool and silk into the black trash bag.

Beck's face turned a furious shade of purple. "Those are my bespoke suits! What the hell are you doing?"

He lunged forward, reaching out to grab the bag.

Harlow spun around. She planted both hands flat against Beck's chest and shoved him with all her might.

The sudden force caught Beck off guard. He stumbled backward, his expensive leather shoes slipping on the polished wood floor. He took two clumsy steps back.

Harlow lifted the heavy trash bag and threw it directly at his feet. It landed with a heavy, pathetic thud.

She stared into his eyes, her voice dead and cold.

"I want a divorce. Right now."

Beck froze. Then, a loud, mocking laugh burst from his chest. He looked at her like she was a stupid child.

He took a step closer, towering over her. "You? Divorce me? You're a spoiled trophy wife. Without me, you wouldn't even know how to pay your own credit card bills."

Harlow kept her face completely blank. She walked past him to the hidden wall safe. She punched in the code, opened the heavy steel door, and pulled out her passport, her ID, and a small velvet box containing her mother's wedding ring.

She pulled a silver carry-on suitcase from the lower shelf. She tossed the items inside and zipped it shut with a sharp, final sound.

Beck watched her pack. A flicker of genuine panic crossed his eyes, but his massive ego quickly buried it.

"You're going to regret this, Harlow," Beck threatened, pointing a finger at her. "You'll be begging to come back."

Harlow grabbed the handle of the suitcase. The wheels dug deep into the expensive plush carpet as she pulled it forward.

She stopped inches from Beck's face. She was shorter, but her aura completely suffocated him.

Her lips curled into a sneer. "Take your true love and your bastard son, and get the hell out of my house."

Beck's mouth opened, but no words came out. The sheer, freezing intensity radiating from her body paralyzed his vocal cords.

Harlow slammed her shoulder into his chest, pushing him out of the way.

She dragged her suitcase out of the closet and headed straight for the bedroom door, leaving Beck standing alone among the garbage.

Harlow walked out of the master bedroom. The wheels of her silver suitcase clattered against the hardwood floor as she made her way toward the grand spiral staircase.

She started down the steps, her posture rigid, her eyes fixed on the front door.

Heavy, chaotic footsteps thundered behind her. Beck was chasing her down the stairs, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"I'm calling the bank right now!" Beck roared, his face red with fury. "I'm cutting off every single supplementary credit card you have!"

Harlow reached the center of the massive marble living room. She stopped. She reached into her designer handbag, pulled out the heavy brass spare keys to the manor, and tossed them onto the expensive marble coffee table. They landed with a sharp clatter.

Beck sprinted around the sofa and threw himself in front of her. He spread his arms wide, blocking her path. He leaned forward, trying to use his larger frame to physically intimidate her.

"If you dare file those divorce papers," Beck snarled, spit flying from his lips, "I will make sure you walk away with absolutely nothing."

He smiled then. A cruel, ugly smile. He wanted to break her spirit completely.

"You think Fallon is just some woman?" Beck taunted. "Fallon is 'Isabella'. She's the Chief Operating Officer of our biggest rival, operating under her highly-guarded industry alias."

Harlow's breath hitched. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"That's right," Beck boasted, puffing out his chest. "We are a power couple. We've been sharing resources. Holman Industries' market share will be ours soon."

The pieces clicked together in Harlow's mind. The recent, inexplicable failed bids. The leaked product designs. This wasn't just a dirty affair. This was corporate espionage. He was actively destroying her parents' legacy.

Beck saw her silence and mistook it for fear. He lifted his chin, looking incredibly smug.

"Admit you're wrong, Harlow. Apologize, and I might let you stay," Beck demanded.

He reached out his hand, aiming to pinch her chin and force her to look up at him, just like he always did when he wanted to assert control.

Harlow's eyes turned to ice.

She shifted her weight, pulled her right arm back, and channeled every ounce of her rage into her hand.

Smack!

The sound of the slap was deafening. It echoed off the high marble walls of the living room.

Harlow's palm struck Beck's cheek with brutal force. The impact snapped his head to the side. His expensive wire-rimmed glasses flew off his face and clattered onto the floor.

Beck staggered. He brought a trembling hand up to his rapidly swelling cheek. He tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

He whipped his head back around to face her. His eyes were bloodshot. He raised his hand high into the air, ready to strike her back.

Harlow didn't flinch. She stood her ground, her spine perfectly straight. She stared directly into his furious eyes.

"Touch me," Harlow said. Her voice was low, but it carried a lethal weight. "Touch me, and I will make sure you are completely ruined on Wall Street."

Beck saw the absolute ruthlessness in her eyes. The hand hovering in the air trembled. Slowly, stiffly, he lowered his arm.

"I will never sign the divorce papers!" Beck screamed, his veins popping. "I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!"

Harlow let out a cold, dismissive laugh. She expected nothing less from a parasite.

She calmly reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. She didn't break eye contact with him.

She pressed the speed-dial button for the estate's private security firm and put it on speaker.

"Send a team inside immediately," Harlow ordered, her voice perfectly steady. "Escort my ex-husband, Mr. Chase, off my private property."

Beck shook with rage. He violently yanked at his tie, loosening it. He spat a curse under his breath and turned toward the front door.

Just before he stepped out, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes were filled with venom.

"You'll be back," Beck sneered. "You'll be on your knees begging me to take you back like a dog."

Harlow didn't even look at him. She pulled a wet wipe from her purse and meticulously wiped down her right hand, scrubbing the skin that had touched his face.

The heavy front doors slammed shut behind him.

Harlow tossed the used wipe into the trash can. Her eyes were hard. The war had just begun.

The next morning, Harlow sat in the manor's study. She was reviewing the joint asset accounts. Her stomach dropped. Beck had already secretly transferred a massive chunk of their shared funds into offshore accounts.

Her phone buzzed on the desk. It was a text from Beck.

Meet me at the cafe near Central Park. Final negotiation. Don't be late.

Harlow changed into a sharp, tailored black business suit. She slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses and drove her car into Manhattan.

The bell above the glass door chimed as Harlow stepped into the high-end cafe. The smell of roasted coffee beans filled the air.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room. She immediately spotted Beck sitting at a corner table by the window.

A wave of intense nausea hit her. Fallon was sitting right next to him.

Fallon was wearing a beige trench coat from Harlow's favorite designer brand. Around her neck rested a heavy diamond pendant. It was the exact necklace Beck claimed he bought for a "corporate client" last month.

Harlow kept her face blank. She walked over, pulled out the chair opposite them, and sat down. She didn't take off her sunglasses.

Beck didn't waste time. He slid a thick stack of legal documents across the polished wooden table.

He cleared his throat. "Here is the deal. We stay married on paper. It maintains the perfect family image," Beck explained, leaning forward. "It will stabilize Holman Industries' stock price. Everyone wins. As for Kade, we will simply adopt him legally under your name so he has legitimate status."

Harlow sat perfectly still.

Fallon leaned her head against Beck's shoulder. She smiled sweetly at Harlow.

"I'm willing to compromise for the greater good," Fallon cooed. "I don't mind if Kade has to call you his adoptive mother."

Harlow stared at them through the dark lenses of her sunglasses. Her stomach churned so violently she thought she might actually vomit.

Beck crossed his arms. "Let's be real, Harlow. You only know how to spend money. You don't understand complex business operations. If you leave me, the company dies."

Harlow leaned back in her chair. A mocking smile touched her lips.

"Your business talent?" Harlow asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You mean stealing your wife's corporate secrets to impress your mistress?"

Fallon's face went chalk-white. The sweet smile vanished. Her eyes instantly filled with tears, playing the victim perfectly.

Beck wrapped his arm around Fallon, pulling her close. He glared at Harlow. "Watch your mouth! You are vicious and uneducated!"

Harlow's patience snapped. The sheer audacity of these two parasites was suffocating.

She leaned forward and grabbed the thick stack of contract papers.

Beck watched in shock as Harlow gripped the edges of the document. With a violent jerk of her wrists, she ripped the thick stack in half.

She put the pieces together and ripped them again. And again.

When the contract was nothing but shredded confetti, she threw the pieces directly into Beck's face.

The sharp edges of the paper hit his cheeks. The shreds rained down over his expensive suit and tangled into Fallon's perfectly styled hair.

Harlow stood up abruptly. She towered over them, her aura radiating pure hostility.

She pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were like daggers.

"The depths of your shamelessness truly exceed my imagination," Harlow said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper.

Fallon swatted the paper shreds out of her hair, letting out a shrill scream. "You are a crazy bitch!"

Beck slammed his hands on the table and jumped to his feet. He pointed a shaking finger at Harlow's face. "Don't push me, Harlow! You don't want to do this the hard way!"

Harlow slapped his hand away. Her skin was ice-cold.

"Negotiations are over," Harlow stated flatly. "I'll see you in court."

She grabbed her designer handbag from the chair and turned to leave.

"I know the best legal team in New York!" Beck roared at her back, ignoring the stares of the other customers. "I will make sure you lose everything! You won't even have the clothes on your back!"

Harlow paused mid-step. She turned her head slightly, giving him a profile of absolute disdain.

"Is that so?" Harlow said softly. "Let's see whose lawyer wants blood more."

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked out of the cafe, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor, leaving Beck and Fallon in a mess of torn paper.