That question almost broke me. He didn’t ask about his money first. He asked about me.
“I am,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Good. I am freezing the closing immediately. I’ll call the lawyers.”
“No,” I interjected sharply.
Ethan paused. “No?”
I looked at Valerie, who gave me a slight, dangerous nod.
“If you freeze it now, Ethan, he’ll know we’re onto him. He will destroy the original hard drives, pressure his staff to lie, and play the victim before we can get the authorities involved.”
“What are you proposing, Maddie?” Ethan asked.
I looked down at the forged signature on the screen. I thought of Chloe wearing my ring.
“Alexander is hosting the massive investor gala tonight at the Manhattan Elite Club to announce the closing of the deal. He thinks he’s won,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Let him walk onto the stage. Let him gather everyone in one room.”
Valerie smirked. “And then we lock the doors.”
The Manhattan Elite Club was the kind of establishment designed specifically to protect men like Alexander Sterling. It was a fortress of dark mahogany, cigar smoke, old money, and portraits of founders who had built vast fortunes on the silence of women.
I arrived an hour late. On purpose.
I wore a sleek, severe black dress that fit like armor. My hair was pulled back tightly, and I wore absolutely no jewelry—except for a vintage gold watch my late father had given me when I closed my first real estate deal at twenty-six.
“Never let a man put his name on your labor, Maddie,” my father had told me.
