Chapter 1
The day his secretary went into labor, Calvin Hartman posted twelve bodyguards outside the delivery room.
"She shows up to make a scene, kick her out," he ordered.
I didn't show.
Instead, I kicked back in first class at thirty thousand feet, watching his company's stock tank on my phone.
His core clients, his entire shareholding, and that paternity test, I had them all.
He could keep me out of the hospital, but he couldn't stop the storm I left behind.
*****
The hallway outside the delivery room reeked of disinfectant.
Calvin stood right by the doors, one button undone on his suit cuff, eyes scanning the floor. Twelve bodyguards in matching black suits lined the walls, stiff as boards.
"We're set, Mr. Hartman," reported Jack, his security chief, a man in his forties with a nasty scar cutting across his neck. "Three at the two elevator banks, two in the stairwell, two at the garage exit, and two at the VIP entrance."
Calvin nodded, keeping his voice low. "If she shows up, don't hold back. Block her. Keep her away from the delivery room."
Jack hesitated for a second. "Mr. Hartman, actually, Mrs. Hartman..."
"What about her?" Calvin turned his head, his gaze icy. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, remembered where he was, and shoved it back. No smoking in the maternity ward.
"You know her temper," Calvin muttered, rubbing his temples. "Last year's company party? She slapped Sophie right in front of over three hundred people. Nearly tore the place down. If she crashes this while Sophie's giving birth—"
He cut himself off as the delivery room door clicked open. A nurse popped her head out. "Who's the family? The mother's doing great. About an hour left."
"That's me." Calvin stepped up, his harsh features finally softening into a faint smile.
In sixty minutes, he'd be a dad.
He took a seat at the end of the hall, crossed his legs, and ran through his plan: where to put Sophie Young after her discharge and how many nannies to hire. He'd already picked out the baby name.
As for Sylvia Hartman, he'd had his lawyer draft the divorce papers last week. She'd walk away with zero dollars.
'Five years married into the Hartmans, isn't that enough luxury for her?' he thought. 'A bankrupt businessman's daughter like her would never have sniffed a Riverside Heights penthouse or its precious river view if she hadn't married me.'
Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
The caller ID showed Mark Chambers.
That was his company's vice president.
Calvin frowned. He'd specifically told everyone not to call him today unless the world was ending.
"What is it?" Calvin asked.
There was a two-second silence on the other end.
And that made the hair on the back of Calvin's neck stand up.
"Mr. Hartman," Mark choked out, his voice shaking. "Your wife... she dumped all her stock."
Calvin bolted upright, his chair screeching against the floor tiles.
"What did you say?"
"Every single share! She put in the sell order before the bell rang this morning. Bulk trade, zero left. The stock is down nine percent already, and institutions are panic-selling. I can't stop it."
Calvin squeezed the phone until his knuckles went white. Sylvia owned eighteen percent of Hartman Holdings, a move he'd made years ago for tax write-offs and asset spreading. He never thought she'd pull a stunt like this.
"Has she lost her mind?" Calvin's voice cracked.
"There's more." Mark took a shaky breath to brave himself. "She left the country. Boarded a morning flight to Lysandra. Her phone's dead. I've tried over twenty times."
Calvin's head throbbed. "What else?" he asked, barely recognizing his own voice.
"And..." Mark paused. "Richard Crane sent over a cancellation notice this morning. Polite phrasing, claimed a shift in corporate direction. I had business development check. Turns out your wife met Mr. Crane in secret last month."
Richard was their biggest client, bringing in thirty-five percent of annual revenue.
Calvin nearly dropped the phone. Veins bulged along the back of his hand.
"He's not the only one." Mark's voice trembled. "Victor Sterling sent a cancelation too. No word from David Stewart yet, but word is your wife went to a hot spring with his wife three weeks ago."
The three key clients generated over seventy percent of the firm's entire operation.
Calvin stood paralyzed in the hallway, phone pressed to his ear. Bodyguards stood in sharp formation around him, the stench of disinfectant twisting his gut.
"What else did she take?" Calvin demanded.
Mark didn't answer right away.
"Spill it!"
"The core client list," Mark said, like every word was squeezed through his teeth. "The one in the safe and the one in your study at home are gone. Cloud backups are erased. IT says someone wiped them three days ago at 2 a.m."
Calvin remembered coming home that night. Sylvia was curled up on the couch in her PJs, watching TV. She'd looked up, smiled, and welcomed him home.
He hadn't stopped to talk. He'd gone straight upstairs and texted Sophie: [Hang tight a few more days. Once the baby's born, I'll lay it all out for her.]
Cold sweat broke across Calvin's forehead. "I'm heading back."
He hung up and rushed toward the elevator, stopping short. He looked back at the closed delivery room doors; muffled groans and clinking instruments echoed inside.
"Jack," Calvin called out. "Leave two guys here."
"Mr. Hartman, aren't you going to wait for the baby?" Jack asked.
Calvin didn't answer. His shoes clicked sharply against the polished floor as he sprinted into the elevator.
*****
A normal forty-minute drive home took nineteen.
Calvin's driver ran three red lights and drove against traffic twice, while Calvin screamed into his phone the entire way. "Legal, pull up Sylvia's equity agreement. What? She used her own account? Where's the authorization from the securities firm?
"HR, how many times did Sylvia come to the office last month? Who did she meet with? I don't care how you do it. Check all the surveillance footage if you have to.
"IT, where are the off-site server backups? Who the hell gave her administrator access to the client database?"
With every call he ended, the color drained further from Calvin's face.
His driver caught his expression in the mirror and quickly dropped his eyes back to the road.