At 2:00 PM, Allison swiped her still-active security badge and pushed open the glass doors of the Lindsay Group's Planning Department.

She carried an empty cardboard box.

The open-plan office was loud. A crowd of employees was gathered around the center desks, laughing uproariously.

Sitting on top of a desk in the middle of the crowd was Cody Pierce.

"I'm telling you, Kason finally threw the trash out," Cody boasted loudly, swinging his legs. "She's probably sleeping on a park bench right now."

A few employees snickered.

"Honestly," Cody sneered, his voice dripping with sleaze, "the only reason a nobody like her got into this company was because she knew how to spread her legs for the boss."

The laughter peaked. No one noticed Allison standing right behind them.

Allison's face remained completely blank. She didn't reach for any makeshift weapons. Her mind shifted instantly into a tactical assessment of the room. She walked back, stepping right in front of Cody, invading his personal space with a chilling, predatory silence.

Before he could even register the danger in her eyes, Allison moved. Her left foot swept out, striking the back of his knee with pinpoint, bone-jarring precision.

Cody's leg buckled instantly. As he tumbled backward off the desk, Allison grabbed his collar, redirecting his momentum to slam him face-first into the hard floor. Cody let out a sharp, breathless scream. He clutched his bruised face, disoriented and gasping for air.

The employees shrieked and scattered in pure terror.

Cody scrambled to his knees, his face flushed red with humiliation and fury. Blinded by rage, he roared, pulling his fist back to punch Allison square in the jaw.

Allison didn't flinch.

As his fist flew forward, her left hand shot up, blocking his forearm with bone-jarring force. Her right hand snapped out, gripping his wrist.

She twisted her hips, applying a brutal, calculated downward pressure on his joint.

Cody screamed again, his knees slamming into the carpet as the joint threatened to snap. Cold sweat poured down his neck.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened. Kason strode out, flanked by three senior executives and Griffin Castro, who was visiting for a consultation.

Kason saw the chaos. He saw Allison pinning Cody to the floor.

"Allison! Are you out of your damn mind?" Kason roared, sprinting into the room.

He shoved his way through the crowd. "Let him go! You crazy bitch!"

Allison released Cody's wrist in disgust. She pulled a tissue from a nearby desk and wiped her fingers, as if touching him had soiled her hands.

Kason knelt beside Cody, checking his face. He glared up at Allison. "Call security! Throw her out! I'm pressing assault charges!"

Allison let out a cold laugh.

She walked past Kason, stepping up to the massive presentation screen at the front of the room. She pulled the black USB drive from her pocket and jammed it into the console.

She hit three keys.

The massive screen flashed. Bank records, routing numbers, and Cody's name appeared in massive, undeniable font. Two million dollars.

The entire department went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.

The executives stared at the screen, their mouths falling open. They looked from the data to Cody with absolute disgust.

Cody's face went pale beneath the humiliating red welts forming on his skin. "Kason... I... it was project expenses..."

Kason stared at the screen. His chest heaved. The humiliation of having his company's dirty laundry aired in front of everyone-especially Griffin Castro-burned him alive.

Instead of turning on Cody, Kason twisted his Patek watch. He glared at Allison.

"Turn that off!" Kason shouted. "You forged these documents because you're jealous of Haylee! You're pathetic!"

Standing at the back of the room, Griffin Castro watched Allison. A spark of genuine admiration lit up his dark eyes.

"Security!" Kason yelled. "Unplug that drive and get her out of here! If you spread these lies, Allison, I will destroy you!"

Allison looked at Kason. The man was defending a thief just to protect his mistress's brother.

She calmly pulled the USB drive out. She picked up a single pen from her old desk, dropped it into her empty box, and walked toward the elevator.

The crowd parted for her like the Red Sea.

As she passed Griffin, their eyes met for a fraction of a second. A silent, deadly understanding passed between them.

Allison stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button for the top floor. The CEO's office.

The top floor was empty. Kason was still downstairs doing damage control.

Allison used her master keycard to unlock the heavy double doors of the CEO's suite.

She walked straight to Kason's massive mahogany desk. She set down a thick stack of financial audit reports she had prepared weeks ago.

Her fingers moved with practiced, surgical precision. She knew it was a reckless move. A tactical error that could invite felony fraud charges if his legal team caught it. But as she stared at his empty chair, a wave of profound, suffocating disgust washed over her. For the first time in her life, she allowed emotion to override protocol. She wanted a shortcut. She just wanted to be free of this parasite immediately, consequences be damned.

She slipped the immediate-effect divorce settlement-the one that stripped her of nothing but demanded his signature-into the second-to-last page of the audit stack.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Allison took a half-step back, folding her hands in front of her, her face a mask of boredom.

Kason burst through the doors, his face flushed with anger.

"What the hell are you still doing in my building?" he snarled, marching toward the desk.

"I'm leaving the final audit reports," Allison said, her voice flat. "Sign the transfer of responsibility, and I'm gone."

Kason sneered. He just wanted her out of his sight. He grabbed his Montblanc pen from the holder.

He didn't read a single word. He flipped aggressively to the back of the thick stack, right to where the signature line of the divorce paper waited.

Allison held her breath. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

The gold nib of the pen hovered a millimeter above the paper.

Suddenly, the office doors flew open.

"Kason!"

Haylee ran into the room, tears streaming down her perfectly made-up face. She was trembling, clutching her designer purse. "Buster is at the vet... they say he might need surgery!"

Kason dropped the pen instantly.

He rushed around the desk, pulling Haylee into his chest. "Shh, baby, I've got you. It's okay."

Allison cursed silently. Her jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached.

Haylee buried her face in Kason's chest, then peeked out, her eyes locking onto Allison.

"Oh," Haylee whispered, her voice dripping with fake innocence. "Am I interrupting business?"

"No," Kason said coldly, glaring at Allison. "She was just dropping off garbage. Let's go to the clinic."

Before Kason could move, Griffin Castro strolled into the office.

Griffin's sharp eyes swept the room. They landed immediately on the desk. He noticed the slight difference in paper weight and the margin alignment of the document Kason had been about to sign.

Griffin walked casually toward the desk. "Kason, before you leave, I need to review these audit liabilities."

Griffin's broad shoulders completely blocked Kason and Haylee's view of the desk.

With a flick of his long fingers, Griffin slid the divorce settlement out from the stack. He folded it smoothly and slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

He turned around, offering Allison a faint, mocking smirk.

Allison felt a cold sweat break out on her back. She exhaled slowly.

"We'll review it later, Griffin," Kason said, holding Haylee tightly. "I have a family emergency."

Kason guided Haylee out of the office, not giving the documents another glance.

The heavy doors clicked shut.

Griffin reached into his jacket, pulled out the crumpled divorce paper, and waved it in the air.

"Sloppy," Griffin said, his voice a low rumble. "If his lawyers caught this, you'd be facing felony fraud charges."

Allison rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I wanted a shortcut. I'm sick of looking at his face."

Griffin walked over to her. He towered over her, his presence suffocatingly dominant.

"From now on," Griffin said, his eyes locking onto hers, "you let me handle the legal slaughter. Understood?"

The air inside the private Manhattan cigar club was thick with the scent of aged tobacco and expensive leather.

Allison followed the waiter down a dimly lit hallway and pushed open the door to a soundproof VIP room.

Griffin sat on a Chesterfield sofa, a glass of amber bourbon in his hand. Files were scattered across the low glass table.

Allison sat opposite him. Griffin pushed a perfectly mixed martini toward her.

He picked up the failed divorce document from his pocket, struck a match, and set the corner on fire. He dropped it into the crystal ashtray, watching it burn to ash.

"If you want thirty percent," Griffin said, his voice strictly business, "we need to prove gross marital misconduct. New York is a no-fault state, but egregious dissipation of marital assets changes the game."

"Kason bought Haylee a condo in Tribeca last month," Allison said smoothly. "Paid in cash from a subsidiary account."

Griffin's eyes gleamed. "Get me the wire traces. I need hard proof."

"Give me three days," Allison replied.

They clinked their glasses together. The sharp chime of crystal marked the official beginning of the war.

Suddenly, Allison's burner phone buzzed on the table.

The screen read: Kason.

Allison frowned and reached to decline it, but Griffin caught her wrist. His fingers were warm and firm. He shook his head, gesturing for her to answer.

Allison hit speakerphone.

"Listen to me carefully," Kason's arrogant voice filled the quiet room. "My grandfather's eightieth birthday banquet is this Saturday at The Plaza."

Allison remained silent.

"You will be there," Kason ordered. "The board is getting nervous about the rumors. We need to present a united front. If you embarrass me, or if you don't show up, I will make sure you leave this marriage with absolutely nothing."

Allison looked at Griffin. Griffin rolled his eyes in silent mockery.

Allison thought of Arthur Lindsay. The old man was the only person in that toxic family who had ever treated her with an ounce of respect.

"I'll be there," Allison said flatly, and hung up.

"Why go?" Griffin asked, taking a sip of bourbon. "It's a trap."

"Because," Allison said, staring at the dark liquid in her glass, "I have a gift to deliver."

Later that night, back in her penthouse, Allison opened a heavy steel floor safe.

She reached past stacks of cash and passports, pulling out a faded, worn velvet jewelry box.

She popped the latch.

Inside sat a dull, heavily oxidized copper St. Christopher amulet. The edges were battered, the metal scarred.

Allison gently traced the engraving with her thumb.

Her father had carried this in the Middle East. It wasn't just a trinket; it was a legendary artifact, recovered from a warlord's vault. It was the only physical thing she had left of them.

She closed the box. Her eyes hardened. She was ready for Saturday.