Chapter 1
The day my three-year wrongful conviction was overturned, my ex-wife, the prosecutor who had personally sent me to prison, came to pick me up.
She pressed a check for 1.5 million dollars against my chest, saying she'd spend the rest of her life making it up to me.
I tore the check to pieces.
"No need. I'm married," I told her.
She lost her composure on the spot. "How could you get married in there?"
I smiled.
"You think I just spent the last three years counting the days?"
*****
November 17, 2024.
The cold was biting, and the wind outside the detention center gate cut into my skin.
I stepped out, carrying a plastic bag.
Inside were the clothes I'd worn when I first came in three years ago, a dark blue suit jacket, washed so many times it had lost its color, folded perfectly.
The sunlight was blinding.
I stood at the gate, squinting, and took a deep breath.
The air outside was nothing like the air inside.
Not because it felt like freedom, but because...
"Nick."
A black Audi pulled up by the curb.
The door swung open, and a pair of black high heels stepped out onto the pavement.
Claire.
It had been three years since I'd last seen her. She looked thinner, her makeup perfectly done, and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.
She still had that prosecutor's aura.
But now, she felt like just some stranger to me.
No, she was even more of a stranger than any stranger could be.
A stranger wouldn't have been the one to put me behind bars.
She came right up to me and stood still.
Her eyes were rimmed with red.
"Nick, I'm sorry."
I didn't say a word.
She pulled a check out of her bag and pressed it against my chest.
"1.5 million dollars. That's everything I've saved over the last three years. Whatever you want to do from now on, I'll support you."
I glanced down at the check.
1.5 million dollars.
First National Bank.
The handwriting was meticulous.
I took the check from her.
I saw a flicker of relief in her eyes.
Then I tore it up.
Four pieces.
Eight pieces.
The scraps drifted from my fingers, the wind carried them away, scattering them across the ground.
Claire stood there, stunned.
"Nick, you..."
"No need," I said, switching the plastic bag to my other hand. "I'm married."
Honestly, I couldn't even put her expression into words.
It was like she'd just found out the Earth wasn't flat after all.
"What?"
"I'm married," I repeated, just in case she didn't catch it. "I've got a wife now."
"Wait, you got married in there?"
Her voice was different now.
All that usual calm and composure she always had, just shattered in that moment.
It wasn't sadness in her eyes, just pure shock and disbelief.
I understood her.
After all, no ordinary person could ever understand.
"It's a long story," I said, glancing at my wrist, three years without a watch. "But I'm in a hurry. Someone's here to pick me up."
"Who?"
Right as she asked, a black Maybach swung around the corner.
The car was shining, and the plate ended in four eights.
It came to a stop right in front of me.
The window rolled down.
"Nick! I'm here to pick you up!"
A guy with a tanned face leaned out the window, grinning wide and flashing a set of bright white teeth.
Leo.
The guy who slept in the bunk above me back in prison.
He got out last year after his sentence was reduced.
Before he went in, he was just a petty con artist running small scams.
After he got out, he followed the blueprint I gave him and started a delivery company.
Now, he controls 34% of the city's delivery market.
That was all me.
Claire stared at the Maybach, then at me.
Her mouth hung open, totally speechless.
I opened the back door.
"Claire, forget the check. From now on, you're on your own."
I got in.
I shut the door.
Leo hit the gas.
The car slid away.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Claire standing there in the wind, frozen in place.
She was still clutching an empty envelope in her hand.
Her high heels were crushing the scraps of the check she'd just torn up herself.
It was a pretty ironic scene.
Leo glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Nick, is that your ex-wife?"
"Don't call her that," I said.
"Oh, right, sorry. She's definitely a looker," he said, smacking his lips. "But she's got a real mean streak."
I didn't say anything.
"So, where's your new wife?" Leo asked. "Not coming to pick you up today?"
"She's got a case at the office. She said she'll throw me a welcome-back dinner tonight," I replied.
"Sure thing!" Leo slapped the steering wheel. "Let's head home! I've got your new place all set up. Fridge is packed, water heater's on, and the sheets are all fresh."
I stared out the window as the city streets rushed past.
Three years damn.
Man, the city's changed a lot.
But some things never change.
Like that air of superiority Claire always wore on her face.
But today, that confidence finally showed its first crack.
That's just the beginning.
Things are only going to get more interesting from here.
*****