“I know you won’t,” I said. “Because if you did, the Pierce Family Foundation would be the next thing I audited.”
I walked toward the door, stopping one last time in front of Alexander. He looked smaller than I remembered. The tall, charismatic man I had married was gone, replaced by a panicked thief who had been outplayed at his own game.
“The divorce settlement is non-negotiable,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “You get the clothes on your back and the car you drove here in. But check the registration first—I believe it’s leased under my company name. You might want to start walking.”
The Final Clause
As I stepped out onto the driveway, the sound of Chloe’s hysterical sobbing echoed through the vaulted ceilings of the $10 million tomb. Two large moving trucks were already pulling through the gates, manned by a crew I had hired to strip the place bare within the hour.
I climbed into the back of my black SUV. My driver, Marcus, who had been with my father for thirty years, looked at me through the rearview mirror with a knowing glint in his eye.
“Where to, Ms. Sterling?”
I looked at the house one last time. It was a beautiful structure, but it was built on a foundation of lies. And in my world, lies are the worst kind of investment. They never yield a profit; they only accrue interest until the debt becomes unpayable.
“To the office, Marcus,” I said, opening my laptop and checking the opening bell for the markets. “I have a contract to sign. And after that, I think I’ll buy myself something nice. Perhaps a gallery. I’ve always had an eye for things that are actually… authentic.”
