Chapter 2

2.

Daylight. The California sun sliced through the blinds, stinging my eyes.

I sat up. A hangover-like headache throbbed in my skull. I hadn't been drinking. It was the aftershock of emotional exhaustion.

I went into the bathroom. The woman in the mirror was pale, with faint dark circles under her eyes. But her gaze was calm. As still as a deep pool of water.

I washed up and got dressed. I chose a black Armani power suit. Applied my makeup with precision. My lipstick was Dior 999.

Time to take out the trash.

Then I turned on my phone, disabling airplane mode. Instantly, a flood of calls, texts, and iMessages poured in. The screen flickered wildly, the phone vibrating in my palm until it went numb. I didn't look at any of them. I just silenced it.

I knew who they were from. Jack. My mom. His mom. A few of the company's VPs. Their messages would all be the same. Shock, questions, pleading, accusations. I didn't want to hear any of it.

I opened the door to our walk-in closet. Half of it was mine. The other half was Jack's. Expensive custom suits, limited-edition Air Jordans, neatly organized ties and cufflinks.

I took out a suitcase and started packing my things. Just a few everyday clothes, my ID, and my MacBook Pro. I didn't touch a single thing of Jack's. His reputation was what he cared about most. I would let him exit my world with a shred of dignity.

The sound of a key in the front door, followed by heavy footsteps racing toward the bedroom. The door was thrown open. Jack stood there. He was wearing yesterday's shirt, wrinkled and stained. His hair was a mess, his eyes shot with blood.

He stared at me, then at the suitcase by my feet.

"Eleanor, what the fuck are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper.

I snapped the handle of my suitcase up. Looked at him. "It's exactly what it looks like. I'm moving out."

He rushed over, snatched the suitcase from my hand, and threw it aside. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you did last night? The company! The whole company is in chaos! Pre-market trading is already down seven points! The VCs are blowing up my phone!"

"Oh," I said flatly. "Isn't that perfect?"

"Perfect?" He looked at me in disbelief. "Eleanor, that's our company!"

"No," I corrected him. "It's my company."

His face changed instantly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the patent for this company's core technology, the 'Fenrir' system, is under my name. And it was filed before we were married. Our prenup clearly states that it's my separate property. As for you, Jack, you only have 10% in management shares. That's it."

I spoke each word clearly. "Before, it was 'ours.' Starting today, it's mine."

Jack's lips began to tremble. He probably never imagined that the meek wife he presented to the public could ever say such a thing.

"El, let me explain." His tone softened as he reached for my hand. "Sienna and I... it was a mistake, I was drunk, I―"

I stepped back, avoiding his touch. "Save it, Jack. You disgust me."

He froze.

"Let's talk about the divorce." I pulled the Herman Miller chair from the desk and sat down, as if I were starting a business meeting.

"I'm giving you two options."

"Option A: You sign the papers. According to the infidelity clause in our prenup, you leave with nothing. I'll let you exit the company gracefully. Publicly, we'll call it an 'amicable split'―to pursue different paths."

"Option B: I file a lawsuit. I submit all the evidence of your affair, along with proof of you using your position to funnel benefits to your family and embezzle company funds, directly to the SEC and The Wall Street Journal."

I looked at him calmly. "Choose one."

He was shaking all over. With anger, and with fear.

"Eleanor, do you have to be so ruthless?"

"You crossed the line first," I reminded him. "The moment you climbed into another woman's bed and let her send me a photo to gloat about it."

His face flushed red, then pale. "I didn't tell her to send it! She did it on her own!" he argued desperately.

"See, the problem isn't who sent it," I said, shaking my head. "The problem is that you gave her the opportunity to take that photo in the first place."

"Ten minutes, Jack." I glanced at the Cartier watch on my wrist. "If you can't decide, I'll assume you've chosen B."

His phone rang. He glanced at it, a flicker of panic in his eyes, and immediately declined the call. I knew it was either Sienna. Or his mother.

"I don't agree to a divorce!" he suddenly yelled. "I won't do it! Eleanor, we have ten years of history, you can't just throw it all away!"

"History?" I laughed as if it were a joke. "Don't talk to me about marriage. You destroyed it. Now get out."