Chapter 10 - The Quiet After the Storm
That evening, after the children were tucked safely into bed, I poured myself a glass of red wine and walked out onto the wrought-iron balcony of the Kensington townhouse. The London skyline stretched out before me under a canopy of brilliant autumn stars—vast, beautiful, and full of infinite possibility.
The secret folder sat on the study desk inside, its pages no longer weapons of war, but historical artifacts of a battle won and left behind. Bradley had spent his entire life chasing power, status, and control, believing that love and family were just assets to be managed and discarded when they no longer served his ambition. In the end, his greed had become his prison, and his arrogance had been his executioner.
I raised my glass quietly to the dark night sky, not in a toast to my enemies, but in a salute to the woman who had stayed silent just long enough to ensure her children would never have to run again.
