The private jet sliced through the clouds above the Atlantic, leaving the gray fog of Boston far behind. California waited for me with its blinding sunshine, empty ocean air, and a completely blank slate. I sat by the window with a glass of sparkling water, staring down at my phone.

Two weeks later, the snow had begun to fall softly over the Boston skyline, dusting the cobblestone streets of Beacon Hill in a pristine white blanket.

I sat in my newly renovated corner office on the top floor of the Hollis Heritage Tower—a room I had originally designed years ago, which Richard had subsequently cluttered with heavy, ostentatious mahogany furniture that I had now completely cleared out in favor of clean, minimalist glass and Scandinavian steel.

The corporate restructuring was nearly complete. The federal auditors had confirmed that the missing funds had been fully recovered from the frozen offshore accounts, and the brand was already rebranding under its original founding title: Vanguard Heritage Hotels.

My phone buzzed on the sleek glass desk.

It was an unknown number, originating from a payphone downtown.

I swiped the screen and pressed it to my ear.

"Julia," a voice whispered—breathy, nervous, and unmistakably female.

"Chloe Miller, I presume?" I asked calmly, spinning my executive pen between my fingers.

There was a sharp gasp on the other end of the line. "How... how did you know it was me?"

"Chloe, your roommate Brianna is currently sitting in a holding cell awaiting federal arraignment for wire fraud and conspiracy," I replied smoothly. "It didn't take a genius to figure out who sold her the prosthetic belly and sent me that anonymous text message warning me about the twins."

"I'm sorry!" Chloe cried out, her voice cracking with panic. "I didn't want any part of their scheme! Brianna promised me ten thousand dollars to help stage the pregnancy photos and send that message so she could secure her settlement cut before you caught on to the embezzlement! But she never paid me! She took the money and left me holding the bag!"

I leaned back in my ergonomic leather chair, watching the snow fall gently against the floor-to-ceiling glass window.

"People who partner with fraudsters usually end up empty-handed, Chloe," I said evenly. "Why are you calling me now? What do you want?"

"I want protection," Chloe whispered frantically. "Constance Hollis's lawyers have been calling me, trying to intimidate me into signing a false affidavit claiming you forged the corporate wire documents to frame Richard!"

I paused, a cold, dangerous smile touching my lips.

"Oh? Constance is still trying to fight?"

"She’s liquidating her private estate to pay for top-tier defense counsel," Chloe breathed. "She swears she’s going to strip you of every share before this is over. She has a secret stash of unregistered bearer bonds hidden in a safety deposit box at the Boston Commonwealth Bank—bonds that Richard used to buy out your original stake twelve years ago under a fraudulent proxy signature."

My eyes narrowed sharply.

Twelve years ago, when Richard and I first married, he had claimed my initial startup shares were converted into marital property under a standard joint-ownership agreement. I had trusted him blindly back then, never suspecting he had forged a proxy waiver behind my back to dilute my foundational ownership.

"Which branch of the Commonwealth Bank?" I asked, my voice dropping to a cool, lethal whisper.

"The downtown vault on Milk Street," Chloe replied quickly. "Box number 412. The key is in Constance's private vanity drawer at her Beacon Hill mansion. If you get there before her lawyers clear out the estate tomorrow morning... you'll find the original signed proxy documents that prove she and Richard conspired to steal your company from day one."

"Thank you, Chloe," I said softly.

"Wait—what about me?" she pleaded. "Will you protect me from them?"

"If your testimony is clean and delivered to the federal prosecutor before sunrise tomorrow," I answered, "I'll ensure your name is kept off the primary indictment list. Cooperate with federal investigators, Chloe. It's the only way you survive this."

I hung up the phone, stood up from my desk, and walked over to my coat rack.