My pregnant daughter was in a coffin—and her husband showed up like it was a celebration. He walked in laughing with his mistress on his arm, her heels clicking on the church floor like applause. She even leaned close to me and murmured, “Looks like I win.” I swallowed my scream and stared at my daughter’s pale hands, still, forever. Then the lawyer stepped to the front, holding a sealed envelope. “Before the burial,” he announced, voice sharp, “the will must be read.” My son-in-law smirked—until the lawyer said the first name. And the smile slid right off his face.

Mr. Halden adjusted his grip on the heavy paper.

“Should my death occur under any circumstances deemed sudden or suspicious,” Halden read, his voice dropping an octave, “my mother, Margaret Ellis, shall be granted full and irrevocable authority to pursue civil litigation, to unseal and release all collected medical evidence, and to vote my twelve percent share block entirely against my husband, Evan Vale, in all corporate matters, effective immediately.”

The murmur in the church erupted into a cacophony of shock, horror, and corporate hunger. The board members in the second pew were suddenly whispering furiously to one another, eyes darting between me and the disgraced CEO.

Evan stared at me, his eyes wide, the breath hitching in his chest. In that singular moment, I saw the realization crash over him like a tidal wave.

He had thought the sudden reading of the will was the trap.

I was the trap.

Chapter 3: Rain and Retribution

“You bitter, deranged old woman,” Evan whispered, the venom in his voice audible only to those standing near the casket. The veins in his neck strained against his collar.

Celeste, ever the survivor, recovered her composure a fraction of a second faster than her lover. She stepped in front of him, shielding him from the hungry stares of the ValeTech board. “This means absolutely nothing,” she sneered, her voice trembling slightly but loud enough to project confidence. “He is the Chief Executive Officer. He has an army of corporate lawyers on retainer. You think a piece of paper from a paranoid, hormonal woman is going to take his company away?”

I stepped away from the coffin, closing the distance between myself and the woman who had helped dig my daughter’s grave. The metallic click of my practical black shoes echoed menacingly.

“You think this is just about a company?” I asked softly. “You think I want his money?”

I stopped mere inches from her. The overpowering smell of her vanilla perfume made my stomach churn, but I did not blink.

“Evan has lawyers, yes,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “But I have the recordings.”