Chapter 1

I've signed property deeds worth millions without my heart racing even a little bit.

But a twenty-two-year-old girl calling me "Mom"?

That took me a second to process.

The penthouse was massive. Floor-to-ceiling glass, pristine marble, full view of the Manhattan skyline.

"Oh, hi! Come on in! I'm Hailey," she chirped, shuffling back to let me through.

She was wearing an oversized cashmere sweater—Julian's sweater—that swallowed her hands.

Right behind her, a giant wooden map took up the entire main wall.

Red string connected polaroids of them kissing in front of mountains, beaches, old cities.

Hailey caught me looking.

"It's our travel board! He takes me somewhere new every single month."

She hurried to take my coat, almost dropping it before hanging it up.

Then she handed me a cup of green tea—a little too hot, steam rising fast.

"Um... so, Julian said his family was coming over today," she began, biting her lip and shifting from foot to foot.

"He told me his wife was... well, way older. Like, older than his aunt. A total workaholic who let herself go. He said they're getting divorced anyway, but... as his mom, I mean... do you think we have your blessing?"

I looked down at my hands.

The skin on my thumbs was still rough from years of hauling heavy crates through unheated midwest fulfillment centers when we were broke.

I didn't yell. I didn't drop the tea.

I just took a small sip and let the hot porcelain warm my fingers.

"Hailey," I said softly. "How long have you two been together?"

"Two years," she said, her voice instantly dropping the nervous edge and turning smug.

"He bought me this place as a graduation gift."

Two years.

I set the teacup down on the counter. The liquid wobbled slightly against the rim.

"Right," I said.

"I mean, we really love each other," she added quickly, as if trying to fill the quiet.

"He says I brought him back to life."

"Excuse me for a second," I murmured, stepping past her toward the hallway restroom.

Inside, I turned on the faucet, let the cold water run over my wrists, and pulled out my phone.

My hands weren't shaking, but my jaw was tight. I typed a quick text to my personal attorney, Sarah:

【Pull all of Julian's private account statements for the last two years. Every dollar.】

Her reply came back before I even dried my hands: 【On it.】