Chapter 1: The Marble Steps and the Unread Annexes
“DO YOU KNOW YOUR EX-WIFE OWNS FOURTEEN COMPANIES?” the silver-haired billionaire asked, taking a slow sip of vintage champagne beneath the crystal chandelier while my ex-husband stood on the stage of his own wedding reception.
Twelve hours before that question detonated across the city’s financial elite, I stood on the frost-slicked marble steps of the county courthouse. The February wind off Lake Michigan was brutal, biting through my tailored navy wool overcoat, but the cold outside was nothing compared to the absolute, arctic stillness within my chest.
Beside the granite balustrade, Daniel Whitmore held court for his defense attorneys and private PR team. He wore a custom bespoke charcoal three-piece suit, his teeth flashing in an arrogant, triumphant grin. Draped over his right arm like a trophy was Vanessa, his twenty-four-year-old former executive assistant turned fiancée, swathed in an extravagant white fox-fur wrap and glossy crimson lipstick.
