The penthouse was silent when Bentley walked in. He was humming. Actually humming. The sound made Chloe sick to her stomach.

She was sitting at the head of the long dining table. The room was dim, lit only by a single candle. There was no dinner laid out. Just a glass of red wine and a stack of papers.

Bentley paused in the doorway, his smile fading. "What is this? Where's dinner?"

"I wasn't hungry," Chloe said. She didn't look up. She just slid the papers across the polished wood. "I want a divorce."

Bentley stared at the papers, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. He walked over and picked them up, flipping through them. "Because of a dress? Chloe, you're acting like a child."

"It's not about the dress," Chloe said, finally meeting his eyes. "It's about you. And her. It's over."

Bentley tossed the papers onto the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning back like he was conducting a board meeting. "You're not getting a divorce. You're just throwing a tantrum because I didn't pay attention to you tonight."

"I'm leaving you because you're in love with someone else," Chloe shot back, her voice hard. "I'm leaving because you look at me and see Blair."

Bentley's face went pale for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're my wife. That's all that matters."

"I'm your substitute," Chloe corrected. "And I quit."

Bentley stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He snatched the divorce papers off the table. "You aren't going anywhere. You have nothing. You are nothing without me."

"I have myself," Chloe said, standing up to face him. "And that's enough."

Bentley's hand shot out. He grabbed the papers and ripped them in half. Then he ripped them again, throwing the shreds into the air. They fluttered down around Chloe like confetti.

"I am not signing these," he roared, his face inches from hers. "You are a Morrow. You stay a Morrow until I say otherwise."

Chloe didn't flinch. She looked at the torn paper scattered across the table. It was a physical manifestation of his control. He thought tearing the paper would tear her resolve. It only sharpened it.

"You can rip up the paper," she said, her voice quiet and deadly. "But you can't make me stay."

Bentley grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. "If you walk out that door, I will ruin you. I will make sure you never work in this city again. I will take everything."

Chloe looked down at his hand on her arm, then back up at his face. The fear was gone. There was only emptiness. "Then do it."

They stared at each other, the tension crackling like a live wire. Bentley was breathing hard, his chest heaving. He looked wild, unhinged. But Chloe was a stone.

He let go of her, stepping back like he'd been burned. He ran a hand through his hair, his composure cracking. "You're crazy," he muttered. "You're being irrational. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

He grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The apartment shook.

Chloe stood alone in the dining room. The shreds of the divorce agreement lay at her feet. She felt hollowed out, but also light. The worst had happened. He had threatened her. And she had survived.

She pulled out her phone and typed a message to Briana.

He tore it up. I'm filing the lawsuit.

Briana's reply was instant. Already on it. Meet tomorrow to prep. And get ready for the pitch. It's your lifeline.

Chloe looked around the empty apartment. It was a museum of a fake life. She wasn't going to live in a museum anymore.

The law offices of Briana Mcdaniel occupied the top floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza. The view was dizzying. Chloe stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city that had almost swallowed her whole.

"The petition has been filed," Briana said, sitting behind her massive mahogany desk. "The process server will get to him today. It's going to get ugly."

"I know," Chloe said, turning away from the window. "I'm ready."

"Are you?" Briana asked, her gaze sharp. "Because once he's served, he's going to fight back. He's going to freeze your accounts. He's going to use the Morrow name against you."

"I don't care about the name," Chloe said. "I only care about the project."

Briana nodded and slid a thick document across the desk. "Then let's focus on that. This is the NDA. Sign it, and I'll give you the files."

Chloe didn't hesitate. She signed her name at the bottom. Briana handed her a silver encrypted flash drive.

Chloe plugged it into the laptop on the desk. The screen filled with topographical maps and schematics. A private island in the Aegean Sea. The design was radical-organic structures that grew out of the rock, powered by the tides.

"The investor is Dimitrios Morales," Briana said. "Eternity Group. He's a ghost, but his money is real. He wants a concept by the end of the week. If he likes it, you'll get a face-to-face."

Chloe leaned in, her eyes tracing the contours of the island. Her mind was already racing, visualizing the spaces, the light, the flow. This was her language. This was where she belonged.

"Morales," Chloe muttered. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"He's old money. Greek shipping magnate turned venture capitalist," Briana said. "Don't worry about who he is. Worry about what he wants."

Chloe spent the next hour taking notes, her handwriting frantic and precise. When she finally left the office, her head was buzzing.

She walked through Midtown, the cold wind biting her cheeks. She needed to think. She needed inspiration. She wandered into MoMA, losing herself in the quiet halls. She stood in front of a minimalist sculpture, letting the clean lines clear her mind.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Three years and still not pregnant? I guess the Morrows are getting impatient for an heir. Tick-tock, Chloe.

It was Hailey. Her step-sister. The parasite.

Chloe answered the call, her patience nonexistent. "What do you want, Hailey?"

"Money," Hailey whined. "Dad's business is struggling. We need fifty thousand. If you don't give it to us, I'm going to the Post. I'll tell them all about how the Morrow heir is missing."

"I don't have fifty thousand," Chloe said, her voice flat. "And I don't care what you tell the papers. I'm divorcing him."

A pause. "You're lying."

"Try me," Chloe said, and hung up.

She walked out of the museum and stopped at a hot dog cart on the corner. She bought one with mustard and sauerkraut, eating it standing on the sidewalk as the snow started to fall. It was the best meal she'd had in years.

When she got back to the penthouse, Maura was waiting with a tray. A glass of warm milk and two small pink pills.

"Mr. Morrow called," Maura said. "He said you are to take these vitamins with your milk. He mentioned they are important for your health."

Chloe stared at the pills. They were a strange shade of pink. Not like any vitamin she had ever seen. She thought of the tea. She thought of the way Bentley always monitored her cycle, always asked about her health.

She picked up the pills. She looked at them for a long moment. Then she dropped them into the trash can.

"I'm tired," she told Maura. "I'm going to bed."

She didn't go to bed. She went into her studio and locked the door. She worked through the night. She cut, she glued, she sanded. She built a scale model of the island, her fingers moving with a speed and precision she hadn't felt in years. She named the central structure Celeste-the sky light. It felt right.

By dawn, the model was finished. It was beautiful. It was hers.

She took a photo and sent it to Briana. Ready.

He's going to love it, Briana replied. Meeting is tomorrow at 10 AM. I'll send the location. Don't be followed.

Chloe showered and dressed in her most professional suit. She packed the model into a secure box. She took a deep breath and walked out of the apartment.

She pressed the button for the elevator. The doors opened.

Alex Vance was standing inside.

He stepped out, blocking her path. "Mrs. Morrow. Mr. Morrow asked me to drive you today."

Chloe's heart sank. He was watching her. Bentley had set a guard on her.

"I'm just going shopping," Chloe said, forcing a smile.

"I'll come with you," Alex said, his face impassive.

Chloe gripped the handle of her model box. She had to get rid of him. She had to make this meeting.