The phone remained pressed to my ear, but the voice of Gloria—my mother-in-law, my parasite-in-law—faded into white noise. I stared past the glass wall of the corporate skyscraper at the Chicago skyline, glittering like an endless circuit board under a frozen night sky.

She marched around the corner of the hotel suite wing, dressed in a floral resort caftan and dripping in faux-gold jewelry, ready to defend her precious son and humiliate the wicked corporate wife. But as she took in the scene—Sebastian slumped in defeat, Alyssa trembling against the wall, and me sitting calmly sipping a glass of water—she stopped dead in her tracks.

"You," Gloria spat, pointing a manicured finger directly at my face. "What are you doing here? You ruined his wedding day! Haven't you done enough damage to my son?"

"Gloria, please, shut your mouth," Sebastian groaned, not even looking up.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut my mouth, Sebastian! This bitch is trespassing—"

"I am not trespassing, Gloria," I interrupted, standing up from the table and smoothing down my blazer. I turned to face my former mother-in-law, letting the full weight of my icy composure wash over her. "In fact, legally speaking, I own this entire conversation."

Gloria scoffed loudly. "Oh, stop with your corporate nonsense. Sebastian told me everything. He told me he's taking half of everything you've got. The house, the car, the accounts—"

"He lied to you," I said simply.

Gloria blinked, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What?"

"He lied to impress you," I continued, turning back to Sebastian, who refused to meet my eyes. "He wanted you to think he was a high-rolling provider who successfully broke free from his cold, demanding wife. He wanted to play the patriarch of a new family. But the reality, Gloria, is that your son is financially illiterate, legally destitute, and entirely dependent on my grace."