I looked at it.
$311,000.
Declined.
I laughed.
Not because the situation was funny.
Because I remembered how frightened I’d been on the courthouse bench.
How my hands had shaken while I changed passwords.
How certain I’d been that my world was ending.
And now I was standing in the same club Brandon had tried to use against me.
Celebrating the company he hadn’t managed to destroy.
I folded the receipt.
Then handed it back.
“Keep it with the records, Marcus.”
He smiled.
“Of course.”
I turned toward the party.
Dad raised his glass.
I raised mine.
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt free.
My ex-husband had left the courthouse convinced he’d won.
He had a younger girlfriend.
A luxury SUV.
And what he believed was unlimited access to the wealth I’d created.
Five minutes later, my father told me to freeze every card.
That evening, Brandon tried to spend $311,000.
