Chapter 2

Early the next morning, I showed up outside City Hall right on time with the signed agreement and our IDs. It opened at eight-thirty, and I was there by eight. James arrived thirty minutes late, dark-eyed and marked with suspicious red hickeys.

When he walked up to me, he put on a face that was equal parts exhausted and heartbroken. "Claire, are you really not going to think this over one more time? I may be broke, but if you stay with me, we'll make a comeback."

I watched his little performance with cold eyes. "Get in line. I have a ten o'clock meeting, so don't waste my time. I've got money to make." When he saw I wasn't budging, he dropped the act and followed me to get a number.

The clerk asked the standard questions—whether the divorce was voluntary and whether there were any property disputes. We answered in unison: no. When the paperwork was stamped and the divorce papers were handed over, James visibly relaxed.

He didn't even bother pretending anymore. At the corner of the lobby, he called Sophie in a syrupy voice. "It's done. I'm grabbing a cab to the airport now. Wait for me so we can board together."

I ignored him and called my agent instead. "Any buyers for the house? Cut the price by one hundred seventy thousand dollars. I want the contract signed today, with full payment up front."

After hanging up, I scrolled through my social feed and found a post Alex Shaw had uploaded five minutes earlier: first-class tickets to the Azure Isles and an intimate photo of James and Sophie in the VIP lounge.

The caption read: [A woman who can share the good times but not the hard ones doesn't deserve true love. Congrats to Jim on winning back his freedom and celebrating his real love's birthday on an island!]

I let out a cold laugh, saved the original photo as proof of cheating, then deliberately hit Like on Alex's post. After that, I opened my contacts and blocked, deleted, and blacklisted James, Alex, Evan, and every last man in that rotten little circle.

In the cab, I snapped a photo of the divorce papers and sent it to my work group chat with a seven-hundred-dollar giveaway. [This married woman is officially back on the market. Enjoy.] The chat instantly exploded.

I muted my phone completely and tossed it back into my bag. Watching the city blur past the window, I took a deep breath. The cheating bastard was gone, and the multi-million project ahead was mine. My life was only beginning.

Monday morning, the top-floor conference room at Corporate Headquarters buzzed with tense excitement as the chairman formally announced to senior leadership, "After three months of fierce competition, Director Linwood has secured the multi-million-dollar Southgate Initiative. Effective today, she is promoted to vice president and will oversee its full rollout." Thunderous applause followed.

I stood and thanked everyone, then my gaze landed on Henry Thornton beside the chairman. The top investor from Corporate Headquarters had been parachuted in with the kind of power that could make or break anyone.

He wore a tailored dark suit and sat with lazy ease, all presence and control. As he flipped through my proposal, approval showed plainly in his eyes. After the meeting, his assistant quietly asked me to stay behind.

Soon, the vast conference room held only the two of us. Henry closed the proposal and pushed it toward me. "Ms. Linwood, your plan is excellent. I'm personally interested and would like to add another seventeen million dollars in strategic investment. Would you be willing to take that on?"

My heart skipped, but my smile stayed professional. "Mr. Thornton's willingness to invest is an honor. I guarantee a return of no less than thirty percent." Right in the middle of our conversation, my phone screen lit up.